Editing for Publication
I have murdered my darlings,
The stain will never leave my hands.
They are soaked with the
Blood of my poetry.
Cauterizing as I cut
I hack through arteries
Hoping the body will be better.
I wrap it in gauze
And send it to bed.
Haven’t I hacked away enough
Of my beautiful words?
When will Frankenstein’s Monster
Have been through enough
To indeed LIVE.
I don’t want to do more surgery,
I can’t bear to lift the scalpel again.
Please find beauty in this one.
This is another poem that I am dedicating to my fellow poets.
It is National Poetry Month here in the US. Will you be writing a poem every day? Will you write a poem at all, or only read some? How will you be celebrating or teaching about this month?