I took the script tying to save it with knitted words and stitching that are grammatically smothered
all over the wall of dead poetry.
Line for line it looks like the healing will never be done in time.
The heart is missing multiple veins and arteries while the kidney is swinging in and out of life like
that swing in the public park.
Blood vessels stringed and cringed as they gasp their last from the few drops they can get.
The intestines are tied in a neat little bow as if they are a bow tie, tying down the stomach and
waistline as if it is a fitness belt.
The skin is turning pale from the lack of oxygen inhaled by the broken nose that was smashed into
the skull when it fell to the floor.
The throat cannot swallow because the tonsils are swollen like birthday balloons ready to pop as
soon as the situation is gloom.
Body hairs have disappeared like the cancer in remission for a minute hoping things will get better.
Vocal cords cannot say a word as they are held hostage by the mute who has them by the throat.
The ribbed bodyguards are smashed wide open as if they were a strike from bowling pins.
The spinal cord is in a spiral as if it were a spider up on the wall.
Reproductive parts are firing blanks as the ***** are netted in the top corner by the best striker in the
world.
The blood shot eyes are the sponges that soaked up all the blood that is supposed to be channelled
through the vessels.
The limbs are spread all over trying to hold together the world that is so apart.
The brain is splattered all over the canvas hoping everyone can get a piece of mind from this art