and the skin over the tattoo has healed
When the police report
becomes a story you tell at cocktail parties
with just the right pauses to sound light and tinkly as the glasses you sip from
When nobody is looking for you anymore
When you have ceased to be a beating heart
When you are only a statistic kept in a file cabinet no one ever bothers to clean
When you realize
feeling the pain of the needle
having to tell your own story
being the last one who remembers
Makes you one of the lucky ones
I interpreted “essay” loosely; There’s no set process that turns life into art, it’s a thousand little moments.
Halle George has previously been published in Midsummer’s Eve and shortlisted for the Briefly Write Poetry Prize. She lives in Los Angeles but still has a Boston accent.