Tuesday, May 05, 2015

They grafted my skin

I went to practice
She had icy blue hands

Till she was bleeding
She had to wash

Every twenty minutes
The other said you know what it means

This illness, I am old and dying
They grafted my skin

Molded this part of my body
Into that

Shortened my bowels
Fixed an extra tube

You know what it means
I cannot walk not pee

Am merely a number
Cannot even flee

Just lie here and stare
Think and stare and
Stare and stink

Counting stains
On pine wood reproductions

Tell me who
Would not be going mad

You are here to practice

I am here for that