i stood and watched your heart rip from the frame

dripping in metal and friction sparks.

the clumsy surgeons danced around

with skilled saws

making it look like nothing.

snipped and parted,

i saw it beating there

for a minute

till the oil spilled

and killed 

around the

uselessness of mine.

tick tick

the machine hits

something hollow inside

and the pulse resounding in 

my drum

stops and breathes

in my throat,

for a second, 

free of sickness,

the anticipation

of ending

brings it back.

pounding