Abstract
In this poem, the author is a hospitalized patient who had been struck by a car while she was walking on a moonless night. In the emergency room, scalpels, scissors, and stars aligned, assembled by her frightened brain. Name your fears and you banish them. The author never knew the stars had names, nor that sharp edges could soften, could suture as deftly as sever, could stitch a path out of her darkness, and light her from broken to whole. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2024 APA, all rights reserved).
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