'Now, make sure you've sterilised those instruments well. I want no complications with this one,' I say to my rookie assistant.

I carefully lay out the gleaming stainless-steel blades and check that all is in order. We're waiting on a last minute ***** donation to complete the procedure and although the timing is unorthodox, I'm confident of success. The pleural resection should be reasonably straightforward. If anything, it's the closure that bothers me...and the possibility of problems further down the line.

From outside comes the sound of a vehicle screeching to a halt. Then the kitchen door bursts open. 'Mommy, Mommy, we got it! The last one.' My six-year old holds the bag of chicken giblets up triumphantly. I smile at my father as he appears with the rest of the Thanksgiving groceries and passes them to my son. 'Right, so who's going to help me stuff this bird?'

If our heart is the strongest muscle
Then why does it break so easily?

The strongest ***** has open wounds.
It's dripping with pain.

Once again
It's broken and bruised.

Our acidic love is burning.
Through the flesh
Im screaming in pain

Every scar of the past
Is ripping with regret

There's poison in my veins.
The antidotes missing

My hearts beating the blame
And pumping out shame

The ache,
The pain,
The hurt,
Is just another
Toxic mistake
Ruthlessly destroying my heart

it's an *****
that we can do without
but most of us
have it still hanging about

were you to look
a bit left of the liver
you'd see this *****'s
plum red sliver

if it gets torn
much blood will spill
from its sack's  
gushing rill  

by golly Francis
verbalizes a lot
she's always
ranting on the spot

glean and keen
rhyme with it
that is a hint
to its kind of kit

I don’t want to live as a loner
So I become an ***** donor
Words compose my heart
I develop into art
That I impart
To those looking for blood
And those looking for love
While both push me in mud
Until my insides are no more
Through the divide I soar
To implore for the end of war
But the world keeps turning
Like the people lying on gurneys
Who’s depression has them hurt me
So I try to give them my eyes
To keep them alive
But much to my surprise
They say they want to die
When the whole point is to survive
So I offer them my legs
To help move them ahead
But they just lie in bed
Wishing they were dead
So I offer my exhausted lungs
To help them breathe
To climb the ladder’s rungs
So they’ll be set free
But they don’t want my disease
And prefer to wither in the breeze
On a time killing spree
Lamenting the life they lead
To me it’s kind of funny
If I offered drugs or money
They’d be jumping like bunnies
But instead they hunt me
For telling them what they don’t want to hear
That they’re the driver and they must steer
So I offer them my ears
That ignore their fears
But since it’s not what they want
They claim I tease and taunt
Saying I’m giving them lip
Without the quips
Just the whip
In my insensitive grip
But I’m trying to give away my brain
To block the reality show refrain
That numbs their pain
Making them empty and hollow
My shell of a body will soon follow

Coming from the mouth of hate
A deep green ink tumbling out
With those **** red petals
Having been stained by the blood
Spilling into vile words of suffering
Twisting this way and that
As if alive- slithering into place

I would plunge the dagger
Deeper still into your chest
Turning it and slicing on either side
Until I could reach in and pluck
That beating ***** from the cavity
And hold it in my hand, so tenderly
Just as I always have been with you
And then crush it in between palms
Applying more pressure until
The pain is unbearable and then
Maybe you will have felt
What you've put me through

My heartbeat's gone all wrong
A stuttering flutter of rhythmic butter
Something this *****'s been slipping on
And what is the tempo marking, dear?
Quarter note equals freakin’ infinity
It's come to my attention, I fear
I never breathed a note this long