this year ripped me apart

and assembled my entrails on the floor

the aching lungs

they gasp for air and want to live.

i could grab all my parts from the floor

stuff them back inside

and sew my meatbag up;

there is no question about this.


it has been done before.


the question then is if

i should do this myself or if

i could rely on my friends

to help me while my hands are indisposed.


maybe i have people like that

maybe my hands dont have to hurt like this

maybe what needs to be done is not all on me.


i could do it myself:

there is no question about this.

maybe there should be.


Written as a response to a poem by a dear friend.

Written 2024-01-07, last edited 2024-01-08.