Diagnosis, a Written on the Body poem

Diagnosis.

 

He flips back through my chart,

scanning for evidence

of my broken-ness

to confirm his perfunctory diagnosis.

 

The squinty eyes light up

under his bushy eyebrows,

as he finds what he is

looking for.

 

“Ah, I see you have

been tampered with.”

 

I leave his office labeled

                Damaged

                Broken

                Defective

 

Many years later

she tells me

with deep compassion

in her voice:

 

“We are never

too broken

to be healed.”

 

And I want to believe her.

 

I am tired of being

the broken girl.

 

It feels such a vast expanse,

the Grand Canyon inside me.

I will have to stretch my wings

to fly across the divide.

 

But I am ready to let go

of this comfortable agony

and leap into the unknown,

trusting that Grace will send me

rising thermals to coast

when my wings tire.

 

I am ready.

 

All that is left now

is to step

off the edge.

 

 

 

 

 

© Joyelle Brandt 2016