Self-Dissection

I lost a dream at the end of the day it fell through the cracks of my heart like you slipped through my fingers when I thought I held you in the palm of my hand now that hand is decaying like all my hopes of the future. I have cut that hand off and it sits on a shelf stinking up my world like all these rotting dreams that have flooded away on the rivers of blood emitting from my stumped arm- no hand.

I don't hear the voices so well anymore though they still talk in my head but now that my ears are gone, cut off, lying on the shelf next to my hand rotting away- maybe I'll send one to you some day.

Depression keeping me in bed too sad broken hearted even to remember what was said so I cut off my legs- don't need them anymore, it's not like anyone ever knocks at my door. My two severed legs lay beside my bed, can't get to the shelf without them. I think they might be cold now throw my blanket on them because my body begins to go numb now and even if it were cold I just can't feel anymore.

I can't see anymore. The tears that fell are no more for I gouged my eyes out with the letter opener after I read your good byes- no longer need these eyes. Not sure where they are- I can't see them.

As I die alone broken and sad I realize that I am whole only wishing to be with another soul- not so very by myself- but my heart still remains on that shelf.