I almost slit my pulmonary artery
and I almost tasted bleak ** drops.
But I escaped the morticioner's needle
I refuse to have my eyes sewn closed
and my lips clasped tight.
Freedom only comes by the light of ultrasounds and x rays.
I can see now
better than before.
And it's all thanks to the gravediggers
who replaced the phlamalderhide
with breastmilk.