Would you use this scalpel
as I'd tell you to?
Would you dig a hole
in my veins?

In this instance, right away, now
please, get this disease out of me,
you will hear no sirens,
you'll only see the tears running.

In this instance, right away, now
please, understand that the hands
of my mind have turned violent.
They shake me up and bend me
until saliva meets bone
and all I've eaten for dinner today
is "fresh air",
smells of petrichor,
oh how can my mind not adore
temporary starvation?

Please!
Realise I do not want this,
I do not want to die...
But the doubts and fears
in my head continously multiply.

Desperation meets bone,
my current body is no home,
not like any "home" I've known,
and I wish I could "move out"
but I'm stuck in this skin...
please plant some seeds into me..

And then...
Use this scalpel
as I tell you to,
confiscate my blade,
make me stay,

And then I will remain.