Concuss

A poem about a head injury.

The ceiling should not pulsate,

My head should not whirl,

The voices should not warble,

And the trickle of blood should not drip onto the gym floor.

It is likely a bad idea

To let a sixteen-year-old girl

Watch herself bleed

Then ask her to stand--

This wasn't supposed to be a metaphor but--

And watch her body crumble again.

The girl ought not to hallucinate,

Adding a voice to the clamor

That does not belong there today.

She probably should rest,

Rather than have the man who plugged her brow

Make her lift weights.

Probably should avoid a rained-out practice.

She should stand up to the a*****e coach

Who does not relent harassment

Between bouts of witless criticism.

But he will continue to be revered.

He will be known as great,

She will be known as

Concussed.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading, please review!