And I ran with
The ribbon cutting
Ceremonial scissors
Celebrating my brave
Resolution to not
Make bad decisions

The flesh, corrupted
He said
We must remove the arm
And pray
The rot doesn't go to the bone

Wrapped in a warm blanket
With my wife / fellow prisoner
Where we share a brush with life
As the outside cacophony of
The paper boy
Throwing the morning edition
Of the wreckage
From the day before
Smites the window