Start at the Fingertips [Poetry]

I always start at the fingertips
The tools are always ready
the blade infinitely sharp
the brand glowing like the sun

The cuts begin again
teasing the fibers of my flesh
separating one from the next
you can’t even see blood
as I cut layers of the first fingernail
examining each scalloped slice

Perhaps one day it will be that easy
but the blade keeps moving
the blood begins to flow
sorting flesh from flesh
each atom examined
placed to the side
unused but not discarded

Slowly my hand is dissected
sinew and bone exposed
the loss of control growing
the gain in understanding
nothing found is a result
watch the twitching
burn bleeds as needed

Disintegration reigns
flay the slices faster
nerves cut from flesh
hung in biological designs
never cut the strands
ribbons of pain flowing
nothing remains forever

Nothing can describe
the basic alchemical carbon
sifting the ashes for evidence
cauterization is such a waste
the wand of flame illuminates
moves from meat to light
sealing off avenues of escape
spectrum analysis negative

Willpower is all
the remains of a mind
pushing the pieces of flesh
straining to know
where and when
it all went so wrong

Madness
emotion
more
less
cycle.

Organizing ischemic cerebral infarction By Patho (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Organizing ischemic cerebral infarction By Patho (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

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