Fingertips

I can feel their eyes singeing me through me
Fighting to reach me at the core
Awaiting my reaction
From the telltale beings and mystical figures
AM I DEAD ENOUGH YET!
I’m the ant in this boiler of a room
CAN YOU HEAR ME UP THERE!
I am dissected
inside and out I can feel the restraints
Morphine-filled beetles running up and down
Pouring under my skin, around my veins
Every bone stained by their hideous feet
Every muscle is numb.
My heart is in cold hands now
My arms beg for freedom
As my throat closes up
I am unable to breathe let alone attempt a solid breath
I’LL STILL FIGHT YOU TILL THE END
With a single tug of the rope
I am defeated
Atrophy takes over
Only my fingers dare rebel against insightful acts
I can feel it now
The fingers that pulled the heart out of my chest
Refuse to let go
Every motion against me
Every breath that holds no mercy
They kill me
AM I DEAD ENOUGH YET!
The only way to go now is down
Yet I hang here by my wrist
The insects run through my fingertips
Taking with them the drug that numbed me
Somehow I am still alive enough to think
To contemplate whether or not there is an afterlife
Or whether or not my life was worth living.
My sight is receding
As the light goes from white to dim
My fingers curl up to the side of my palm
My toes point to the hell described as this
My heart is breaking by your thumb and forefinger
AM I DEAD ENOUGH NOW?
December 24, 2009