We visit the table
Where it all began
You hold me down
Until I can't breathe
You cut me open like an autopsy
So you can see what makes me tick
You squeeze my heart
Until I swallow it
You deflate my lungs
Like popping bubble wrap
You play jump rope with my veins
Your sticks and stones
Forever in my liver
I throw up your poison
Not even stitches can fix
The damage you have done.
-redhanded.
YOU ARE READING
Pathology.
PoetryA collection of future poems to be published in my poetry anthology called Pathology.
