The biopsies of
bodies
Looking across
the scope of human kind
Under the
microscope of measured time
Tells us
Tells us that
we’re too late
Our skeletons
walk and
The narrow
lengths of our veins
Lies next to the
collection of bones
Filling the
cavities
Of marrow and
the snapping of
Our fragile
reigns
The cells of our
beings
Build cells
around us
Close inwards
and inwards
Turn inside
yourself
And out
The IV
intervenes and drips us into the drip chamber
Preventing the
air that’s meant to keep us alive, like
A shot in the
dark
Diving the
needle like a shot through the
Heart
Malignant
It’s indignant
to us
When the hopeful
figment of imagination
Tells you this
is an annihilation
Of the weak, the
strong
The right and
the wrong
And the world
has become
Immune to being immune
Megan Reece
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