There's something so empty in your voice.
Not a sadness, or a longing.
But rather your "something human"
Long since gone.

Something is missing,
Something is not quite right.
Is it a draft slipping in through your ribcage, whistling out through your teeth?
I can hear it snake by so easily, with all the hollow underneath.

You sit on long metal tables,
Each one colder than the last.
Doctors always asking where it hurts.
Do you ever feel tired of not having an answer?
Have you ever lifted up your shirt
And showed them what you can't say?
Or are you afraid they'd step back and gasp?
Because there's a disgusting gaping hole in you,
That no decent person could fill.