Spread out your neurons on a metal table,
pin down the sides to the steel with knives forged of
ecstatic delusion.
Insanity can be gentle, kind,
I've tasted the cotton, I've dipped my hands into an oceaned cool,
stained with the poppied petals of hurt.
You've reached inside my chest cavity,
Hands of ice, ripped my heart out, just like that.
I stumble forwards into your bleeding embrace,
and stinging iron taints the air between us.
Autopsy a living being, pick apart the cells that make up
a heaving mind.