My mind is sinking down through my chest
and adding it's weight to my heart.
Together, they're heavy
and pull on the skin on my forehead
and under my eyes.
Their gravity combines and pulls
my hair in.
My head is smooth,
I have no eyebrows and my nails
I grow inwards,
shrinking and getting heavier.
The weight of my heart joins, kneads
my liver into my mind.
"Too much salt is bad
for the heart," they say.
My intestines lengthen
and then contract around it all.
My heart would be digested
if it could fit into them.
My stomach sucks up,
but weighs nothing
and adds only emptiness.
I still have my appendix.
Is it safe to have so many poisons
so close to my heart?
My kidneys get separated
in the mass and they're filtering
Strangers Tears & Blood
instead of cleaning me.
The skeleton stays
hard and stretched out
with my skin still stuck on it.
To look at me, you wouldn't say
my vital organs had moved.
From my eyes
you might be able to tell.
From their being dry and scratchy-looking
and a little withdrawn.
There are days when all I remember
is the feeling of your death -
Not You or you dying -
just the feeling of me after you stopped.
Fiction is the lie that tells the truth ... (Neil Gaiman)