No. 28: Memory of a hole

A hole.

Round. Dark.

The girl looks curiously

at the hole.

There is a smell

coming from the hole.

She sniffs.

Expectantly.

Trying to reveal the smell.

A nurse sticks

a finger into the hole.

And lifts the

stainless steel cover

that has arched over

the plate on the tray.

Which was hiding

what was on the plate.

And which is now revealed.

Meatballs! 

 

In the kitchen at Karolinska Hospital

This is the girl's only memory

from her early years in hospital.

Her only memory.

Completely her own.

Not something that was told to her.

Not a memory from a photo.

So it is not pain that the girl remembers.

Not the injections.

Not the farewells.

She remembers the steel cover

and the exciting moment

before the food appeared.

Like a host

envelops and hides

its true body.

One day God the Father

and the Son

will stick their finger in the hole.

Lift the lid.

And everyone will see

what has been hidden under the cover.

But if it's meatballs then,

the girl would be surprised.

 

Karolinska Hospital in Stockholm

 

#ThePruneBellyGirl #PruneBelly #PruneBellySyndrome #rarediseases #survivor #childhood #handicap #autobiography #disability #childrenshospital

These poems are originally written in Swedish and translated by myself. So if the translation sounds weird - please just laugh, or cry, or just shake your head and move on to the next poem, hoping for a better translation there... Thank you for your patience, and for following my story! By the way - my lyrics sometimes sounds weird in Swedish too...