Going, Going, Gone

Going, Going, Gone

You go into
the hospital
with no intention
of living.

You get broke
open.
You get stitched
shut.

You begin to bleed.
You keep bleeding.
Ears, eyes,
needle holes,
nose.
It will not stop.

Joy leaks from you
and when all joy
is gone
you end.

You lie,
pen in hand,
stiff.
People stare,
shuffle silent
to sit and hear
vacant words
from a
stranger.

Your life,
an echo.
Your death,
less.