you may think it’s nothing
but my veins and arteries are laid out bare.
Bloodflow of which my heart chose to confine.
buried there
like the ****** you were last accused of.
I proposed death as the blade grazed me
cause after then, I lose none.
choosing to live with it is like a bruised lung
with a virus destined to crawl out of every cell
like a tune sung. reaching convict ears.