Flesh, rent and cut.
Ruptured or scalple’d.
Human tissue,
treated or poisoned?
Searing pain.

Cauterised nerve endings,
designed to heal.
To heal is painful.
The flesh regrows,
tissue scars but it is strong.

If only it were maligned flesh,
or our puzzle.
The riddle of defective DNA.
It is death.
The pain is loss.

It is not unbearable,
the solace is that it isn’t your pain.
I begged for it to be me,
and now it is.
And now it is.

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