Holding Hearts To Bleed

I lay cold on the metal table White sheet of paper lay atop my corpse A snow field Barren as i lay dead eyes staring up blankly into the shining light absorbing my shadows you are my doctor the one whom shall cut me open stitch by stich with your sharp incisions formaldehyde lingering in your nostrils I am your test the one you practice on for i am not real in your eyes i am merely a dummy here for your pleasure And you run the tap as to divert my attention from the pain i should be feeling and you cut digging your hands into me pulling out my heart roughly to examine you were never gentle You take it betwixt your fingers As it struggles to pump bleeding slightly on your plastic gloves And when you're done, you will keep my heart and push what's left of me back into the autopsy slab into the darkness where i shall wait for you to bring me back to life