Scar Tissue

Scar tissue connects my brain to my soul
so I occasionally grit my teeth
and tear them apart.
The pain gives way to disorientation:
the room starts spinning,
colors blur, my eyes unable to focus,
as the borders and boundaries
I have carefully crafted melt.
I have learned to simply
close my eyes
bow my head
and trust
that the floor is,indeed, still.
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