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In my head, I am on a dissection table.
The lights are so bright. So white. So empty.
My friends and family are gathered around in white lab coats
With scalpels in hand, and white paper masks
With a sweet smile and kind eyes,
My best friend brings the sharp, glistening blade down to my chest
And makes the first incision.
With a rustle of paper and a few drops of blood, my insides are exposed.
They gather around to see me.
No detail remains hidden, no inner organ left un-probed.
Every color and every shadow
Every pattern emerges as the blade slowly glides down my skin
All the way down my arms and legs
Muscles quiver in the cold air
My stomach coils itself tightly.
And my heart calls out for everyone to hear
Finally, in a flash of light, the razor flits around my head
My paper scalp rustles as they turn the first page
Now my head is exposed
Thoughts unfurling as they gape in awe.
Now my soul is on display, and the story unfurls.
They gather round to see
Hungry eyes devour every detail
As they hold their breath and enjoy the show.
When in reality,
They are just reading that story I wrote
My precious brain child
That chunk of my heart
That piece of fiction, with an essence of truth
I wonder how it would feel if someone read this poem...