People only want blood and guts:
something they can sink their teeth into
and come back with meat between their fangs
And would you please let them see
the scimitar of bleached skin?
The blade of dark pink flesh?
Give them any reminder of your autopsy
Feed their fetish for suffering
through your IV drip
and tell them all about the river you can feel
as it makes its way through your body.
no one wants the sour smell of bile
the chartreuse of stomach acid
to ruin their day in the operation theater
It’s all smiles until you tell someone
about the rusty pain of having a catheter inserted
like fucking a syringe
God forbid you actually feel
anything they put you through.
You can be their inspiration porn
until your symptoms are called into question
See, heart palpitations are fine
not so much
See, sickness is only profitable
if you’re their brand of suffering
Nobody attached to your poor body.