Midrange Moan

The wounds that never healed
were just wrapped up
wrapped up with bandages
clean and white as snow
like the dawn of a new day arising.
But peel them back
and what do you find?
The cuts
just as deep as the day of inflicition.
No scabs, or scars
just raw, bleeding skin.
But go deeper
Climb inside, go on an adventure
but be not surprised
by what you will find.
Crawl through the layers of infection
and tumble through my veins
untill you fall into the empty chamber
where my heart used to subside.
Upon arrival, do not be alarmed
at the black monster of what used to be
Instead, stand in awe of the power
of one person has to have made this creation.
And realize that the small, little incision
made atop my left breast
has gone much deeper
and spread much father than ever expected.
But travel just a little farther into the creature
inside my chest cavity
and pick up the pieces of the shredded paper
spread across the floor.
Piece them together
and you will find the picture of his face.
Not now, not then.
But how I remember it in the beginning.
Wait. Quick before the pieces fasten together permanentley
Strike a match
and set them ablaze
so that this time
There are no pieces to be picked up
Only ashes to be blown away.