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#13149319 Mar 24, 2017 at 08:27 AM · Edited 7 months ago
High Nine Ad...
75 Posts
(Just a poem I wrote in my spare time. Not work of the masters, I'll grant, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless xox)

I want to take all my ribs
And snap them quite in two.
“How odd,” you will say to me!
But I will be wrought anew.

Pull my intestines out like string
Bit by bit, how it would tickle!
And then they’d be gone, just like you,
My friend gone all fickle.

I’d tear off my fingers, all ten of the things,
And throw them on the bloody heap.
But not before I scrape out my eyes --
So that for you I shall not weep.

Lungs, bah! Who needs the things?
Useful as a blue balloon.
Trachea, bronchi, tubes and all
Losing them may just be a boon.

And what’s a heart for, sitting there,
When all it does is beat?
I'll thank you to take it out for me
And throw it at my feet.

Finally, please, would you take my brain
And leave it on a platter?
I wasn’t using it anyway – clearly –
For all that idle chatter.

Now I’m all in pieces
In that pile on the ground
Would you stitch me back together
With a brain more profound?

And when I am whole again
I promise I’ll be sane.
I won’t be so impetuous
With my nice new brain.

“Please don’t blame my old self,”
I’ll say through new-sewn lips,
“My brain was broke from all those knocks
It took when I lost grips.”

I must have torn myself to pieces
A hundred times by now
Just so you would like me too,
And stick to that old vow;

You promised me it would not change
You damn well gave me your word!
I'm sick of trying to read you mind
'Cause all I see is absurd.

I’ll fall apart and together again,
Until my battered soul is through,
But look at me, just tell me truth;

Who exactly am I to you?
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