Heal Me Doctor Poem by sherrie tappenden

lift out my heart
and place my death
upon an altar.
sacrificial.
exposed as the rotting pump
that sends tainted blood
hot and sticky
through veins as fragile
as a needle's thread.
lay open the wound.
gaping.
in steel trays
place the choking ivy
that would squeeze my life
from between lips
of blue parchment.
cut out the roots
white and tuberous
growing within the dark earth
of living tissue.

the claws of death
will scratch a hole for me,
open up the earth for me,
lay me in the cold, wet soil
and fill my destiny over my dead face.
open my body.
slice away this murderous parasite.
lay out your ritual blades
and carve these tendrils of agony
away from the core of me.
heal me doctor
so I can feel the hollow ache in
limbs and brain.
so I can taste the vile breath
of conciousness.
welcome the pain.
reality.
gasping for the arc lights
and sterile hands
and know I am alive.