Her Ligature

My ‘Limp’ is just Perfect,
I can still feel
the cobweb of the ‘Sprain’
… I am ‘Real’ again.

At the Hospital Cafeteria,
a Gentleman
held open the door for me
and said, and I quote
“There you go, sweetheart.”
as I hobbled on by
… absolutely Beaming.

Last week I was invisible,
to everyone
but the ‘Mock’
… under the stairs
I sketched my arms
with a compass point
… the relief…
there was no ‘Relief’
… I have moved up a Level.

Permanent ‘Crutches’
… a chair whilst I queue.
and ‘Thoughtful Manners’
from The Strangers,
who for all of those years
… branded my Soul
with their callous indifference.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.