Holding Hearts To Bleed
I lay cold on the metal table
White sheet of paper lay atop my corpse
A snow field
Barren as i lay dead
eyes staring up blankly
into the shining light
absorbing my shadows
you are my doctor
the one whom shall cut me open
stitch by stich
with your sharp incisions
formaldehyde lingering in your nostrils
I am your test
the one you practice on
for i am not real in your eyes
i am merely a dummy here for your pleasure
And you run the tap as to divert my attention
from the pain i should be feeling
and you cut
digging your hands into me
pulling out my heart roughly to examine
you were never gentle
You take it betwixt your fingers
As it struggles to pump
bleeding slightly on your plastic gloves
And when you're done, you will keep my heart
and push what's left of me back into the autopsy slab
into the darkness
where i shall wait
for you to bring me back to life
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