Staples in my skin.
All over my body.
I am on a towel, on a table.
You pull them out.
Slowly, with pliers.
Dipped in the alcohol.
Slowly, you pull them out.
My eyes, closed.
They’re everywhere
How did this happen, you ask.
When did this happen?
You pull them out.
Hold the cloth to the spot.
Stop the bead of blood.
They’re scabbed over, grown over
Dig gently. Pull them out.
Slowly.
You hum a soft tune.
I feel nothing.
Did you drug me?
Or is it just the tune?
Staples.
They spelled a message.
That I cannot read.