Autopsy

Come.

Closer.

No, do not be afraid.

Look me in the eye. Cry if you must.

Your teeth

You bite the hand that feeds

But I am dead. You cannot hurt me.

I have paid my dues

Don’t you see my eyes?

I told you to look at me.

Look.

What do you see?

I am void of blood

You cannot drain me.

But

You try.

I have been embalmed,

You tear at my flesh

And though I am empty

Somehow

Oh, god,

I was wrong.

I can feel it.

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