Ouchie

I clonked myself in the face

while splitting wood.

It was a bone-headed move.

Plus, I knew it was going to

happen and did it anyway.

My skin split

just above the eyebrow.

All the sorrow and rage

and stoopid came pouring out

along with the tears.

Now I know.

Never put a hunk of kindling

flat on the splitting stump

and hit it with the ax.

It will snap violently in two.

Half of it will fly back

to break your face.

But can I say never love?

Because death will

      eventually

hit with its ax and

snap your heart in two.

Half of it will fly away

and all the rage and sorrow

and stoopid will

pour down your face

along with the tears.

Yes, we know this is

going to happen

and we do it anyway.

Because not to love is

     unthinkable.