Spineless (poem)

She’s my spine, you used to say
She’s my strength, you would say

Is this how you treat a spine
to bend it to the point where
to configure it so that
to suffocate it beneath
to subject it to
an angle, a pressure, a treatment,
deconstructing one vertebrae at a time
forcing a biologically impossible mutation
until

snap.

Never a spine,
I was the shoe you slipped on unthinkingly yet
you marched on deliberately.
Punctured with holes and
Knocked by pebbles and
Grazed by glass and
Chafed and worn and
No longer needed.

No longer needed
Not at all like a spine.

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