Self Extraction


I have, within me,
all of the passions that are
within man.
But would, if I could,
By some obscenity,
or a knife
cut out the chunk of myself
that beguiles me to be a fool of love.
If it be the kidneys, then out with them!
The liver? The spleen?
The lungs, perhaps?
No, but we know this is folly.
It is the eyes and the lips,
The hands and the heart.
So off with the head,
and both hands for sale.
And prayers that the rest dies
soon after.

And as I lay,
broken and bloody on the ground,
I am happy,
For I know there is no love within me.