I want you to be my surgeon

I want you to cut me open with a bone saw
down the axial plane
and the sagittal
hack into me every fucking which way
cut me wide open and explore my insides

don’t you want to know what makes me tick?
why my blood is thick with vengeance
why my brain is full of sick thoughts about you
and me
and killing people randomly
and where this rage, this wild uncontrollable fury comes from
and how deep it goes
and why I want to take a knife to myself sometimes;
slit and shed my skin like the slimy reptile that I am
stick my fangs into the neck of society
and inject them all with my venom,
poison this useless fuck of a world
that I never understood
and which never understood me

depression and rage are all I seem to be made of
so see if you can trace those wires, Doc;
cut me down to the fucking bone
dissect me and examine me,
find out how I get lit
patch me up with different body parts
put me back together
make me someone new
and wait
for lightning to hit

By Cynthia Ruth Lewis