I am not a perfect human
when I was born there was gunk in my lungs
and for a while now my heart's been talking to me in rhythms
like let me out like forget to beat like no blood to my brain
or fingertips

They tried to make me a perfect human
in the summertime under the knife
under flourescents instead of the sun
crinkle sheets crinkle paper gown
crinkle pop heartbeat

When they burned me from the inside I could feel it
I woke up when I wasn't supposed to like a volcano of survival
the light was white, I screamed, I remember it all
till anestesiologist put me back to sleep
all three seconds

Days and weeks after bruise hobble
the monitor is even now every third beat
like a perfect human being's
I watch everyone around me breathe strong
I breathe strong too and only check my pulse
out of nerves.