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.