There Is A Leakage In My Lungs Poem by Winsy Tink

There is a leakage in my lungs
Caused by a splinter invisible to the eye
The atmospheric pressure chokes my breath
It sucks away my vigour, my elixir
And I am like a bath tub unplugged
Insidiously draining away

There is a stone lodged in my left atrium
Like a bullet I can’t pick out
With every inhalation it gains a ton
I tremble under its tremendous weight
The heart is a plagued organ
Stale, clogged circulation

There is a rugged edge of a cliff
Overlooking the black abyss of my mind
There is a soul peering down the empty depths
Her face wiped clean of joy, sorrow and regret
For she is in the Fields of Asphodel
Waiting, waiting – for nothing

But there is also a voice called Courage
That summons Reason from its hibernation
Reason pulls on his surgical gloves
With professional dexterity he patches up my lungs
And plucks the bullet from my heart
And seals the abyss in my brain
And amputates my gangrene-consumed flesh
And the wounds will one day close
Leaving but a scar.