Surrounded by mutilated bodies
I wait for the medics and ambulance.
Everything hurts, I can hardly breathe
as I struggle to staunch the flow
of blood in a body drenched in piss
that no longer feels like my own.
Drained by the most excruciating pain
I have ever known, I can barely move
in any direction—reminding me of how
well I used to move on ice playing hockey.
I skated with such finesse, I could look like
I was moving in opposite directions.
Will I ever be able to get back on the ice?