salt in the wound (a poem)

they say salt
in the wound’s
supposed to
cure you.

if it don’t
cure you,
then it’ll
sting you.

but the sting’s
sure better than
the pain
inside:

cover up your
wounds, cover
them under
your hide;

and when the
salt touches
where i
touch you,

you will wish
the sting was
replaced
with time.

AN EXPLANATION.

Hello, my dear readers!

Another day, another poem for you guys, and today’s is… Well, it’s a little guy come to life from a random cold January night in which I thought to myself: “Salt in the wound seems like a cool phrase. I wonder if I can make a poem out of it.” And here we are.

Does anyone actually say, “Salt in the wound’s / supposed to cure you?” I’m going to guess not, but this question is actually something I really considered as I was writing it. At first the question didn’t make sense to me, because if there is anything in anybody’s physical wound, it’s going to hurt and make you even worse. But as I wrote the poem, I thought to myself: But what if that’s exactly what it’s for? What if rubbing salt into our wounds hurts us more, and therein lies the cure to our issue in the first place? Yup, there I go off on a tangent again that probably will go over even my head by the time I publish this.

Anywho, salt in our wounds hurts. It’s painful, but it sure does leave a stinging memory in its past. While we want it out ASAP, that salt’s power is engrained in us and who we become. And what happens if that metaphorical salt never really goes away, and our pain goes from external to internal? Well, that’s not a good diagnosis is my guess.

Tell me what you guys think! I love hearing your analyses and opinions. ❤ And in the meantime prepare yourself for Monday’s blog post that will stray from writing and head into the topic of…

Am I stressing you out when I keep it to myself? Or is that just annoying?

Wait until Monday to find out!

Katie Kay