there is sloppy bright blood pouring- gushing and i need some tissues or a ******* roll of paper towels
it tastes like iron but it isn't hard it's warm and it's heavy but no, never hard
anyway it's spilling from the spot where i cut you out.
when i'm afraid everything feels different breeze feels like waves and this shredded fleshy spot short of stitches or band-aids
feels like stepping out of the shower in the winter with the window open feels like pins and needles and falling onto your chest and having no more air
i've never felt more new or more unconditionally irrationally and remarkably afraid