Poetry: Unique Identifier

Poetry isn’t something I claim to be particularly good at. However, it’s been a little way to express and organize thoughts while awaiting novel edits to come back. Despite the inevitable angst that comes with my poetry, I thought it’d be fun to share some of what I’ve been playing around with these past few weeks…

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You’ve never felt fear until you see their code 

The moment you find it is the moment you’ve lost 

Your plans no longer matter

Your intentions collapsed

Now you see their code, and there’s no going back

ID Number 45221514

I didn’t want to see it 

But it didn’t care

Hundreds of dents leave marks on the heart

Like an old bumper, they can be smoothed out

They are nameless

No numbers remain behind

They had their fun, and now it is gone

ID Number 45221514

I didn’t want it named 

Now it won’t go away

Codes do not leave dents in plastic and metal

A unique identifier is the sharpest of blades

They slice you open

They rip wide gashes

They etch their number into the soft walls of your soul 

ID Number 45221514

What a terrible string

But now it’s written on me

I’ve seen its imprint tattooed inside my ribs

When I did, I sat down and cried like a child 

Because then I knew

You became one of few

When you sink the knife, it’ll cut through the bone

ID Number 45221514

Whatever pain comes matters

Because it came from you

You and your code 

I can’t erase it 

You own it

You own it 

You better fucking own it. 

ID Number 45221514