White sheets as pallid

As me

As I try to keep on breathing

My shrunken face

Plastic like Barbie dolls'

I wonder how my newborn will

Claw out of me with pink razors

With my plastic smooth

Womb

The doctors have come here

I paid them

To come fix me

But instead of fixing

The baby trapped

In my pink warm nets

They came and stitched up

My brain

"She is full of estrogen"

"She is full of bipolar"

They tell me

"She doesn't need medicine"

"She doesn't need the little

Lithium tablets"

"She needs brain surgery!"

"Put her under morphine"

"Put her under laughing gas"

Hear my breathing as I slumber off

To Morpheus' land

They opened up my skull

They prepared their surgical tools

They come and slice off the gray

The nice little silver slab of meat

Snip snip snip

With the sharp long scissors that are shaped like

Badger's claws

My emotions have faded away

"A few more repairs" they say

As they get their sewing kit

And instead of creating a doll

For his son who needs someone

Not away at work so much

He is making me

Into a doll for him

To be emotionless

To become so filled up with fluff

To have my hands and feet covered in embroidery

My brain

My sanctity

My life

My soul

Everything doesn't matter anymore

All of that is gone

Gone in a quicksilver minute

Gone like the mercury

That was drained from my brain

Hours later

My eyes black as a hole

My skin yellow like my bones

They tell me that the operation was a success

I can no longer feel of the scars underneath my skin

Anymore

But I told them I just needed

A cesarean section

How is this

Infant going to come out

And they said don't worry about that

Lady

You won't feel for your child

When he dies and decays inside you

He is only a late meal

Your body needs

To keep going strong

Like vitamins and minerals

He won't belong to you long

Someone paid him

To give this advice

And I can only remember

That some doctors were

Coveted and molded

With ice

The cord ties around him

Bloody and full of my juicy dead meats

It tightens and tightens and tightens around

And around and round and around

The cold gray hand is tightening so much

The black blood on his pink flesh

When I suddenly hear the intestine serpent

With fangs made of sharp wishbones

Snap his neck like a twig

And I only know of

How my brain

Feels completely numb

Within

The child died

It isn't my fault

Why should I care?

When the doctors warned me

Of having my brain too emotional

Too loose

Too mercurial

My head was too much in flight

With Morpheus' land

And they tightened me like the umbilical cord

With their silver little claws that

Scratch scratch scratched my brain

Like hungry raccoons from my backyard

They sewed me up

They have me dressed in formal wear

As my head got repaired

With black stitches