In stitches
usually means you're laughing.
I am not laughing.
In fact, I'm all stitched up
with harsh black thread
accusing me at every turn.
It comes out in two weeks.
I am still not laughing.
My fingers won't move.
The doctors say
I severed tendons
but the feeling should come back
within a month.
Should I be laughing?
In this hospital,
smelling of antiseptic and guilt,
whitewashed and full of bad memories,
in a room where everything is padded,
I'm in stitches.
They told me not to pick them
or they'd have to give me a shot.
Hey, what's another hole?
To close one up, they made
twenty-eight more.
I'm in stitches, all right.
Are you laughing?