Ribs

Expose my ribs,
My beating heart, my inflating,
Deflating lungs.
Rip me open.
Shove your fingers inside the space between my ribs,
Grab, pull, wrench them apart.
Hold onto my heart,
Feel it pulsate,
Feel the warmth of my blood,
Do you love all that I am?
Do you look inside me and see beauty?
Do you see the rot and decay of my soul?
Hold onto my heart.
Let me feel the heaviness no longer,
Despite its best efforts to be pulled down into my stomach.
Hold me up, whether it be by my heart, by my ribs, by my shoulders.
Hold me up, despite my ugly, my manic, my hatred, self-loathing.
Hold me up, I cannot do this alone.
God, do not leave me alone.
Do not let me sit and think and feel,
Feel everything yet nothing at the same time,
The nothingness I would much rather cover up with
The feeling of pills, the burn of alcohol, the sting of a blade against my skin.
In my efforts to feel anything but to feel nothing,
Anything but to feel everything,
I lose myself to destruction.
I am filled to the brim with efforts.
Mistakes, regrets, my skin covered in what used to be
Secrets.
Oftentimes I wish flowers would grow from me.
My skin, my wounds, my scars.
Anything to simply feel beautiful.
Anything to feel like something nice came from all the terrible.
But of course, nothing beautiful could grow from me.
Why should I wish for such a thing,
Such a thing I don’t deserve?
So you tell me,
As you gaze into the screaming scarlet hole in my chest,
Where you yourself have torn apart the cage that is my ribs,
What do you see in me?