I swallowed a sword for dinner,
and when it dropped straight
through me, the hole it made
worked wonders. I’m empty
perpetually, all this blood drains.
My heart takes such a beating. 
I make it earn its place. Prove
it’s no scrap metal. I’ve found
playing god is only as much fun 
as what I can control. I crave
recklessly, then crave absolution. 
For years I’ve been calmly fixated.
There never was much fear 
once I decided, settled, goals set.
I can look past all this stupid dying.
I can look past all this fat and muscle.
I can dig the vision out of me.
I just have to be careful about this.
Maybe hold myself over with a knife
for lunch, maybe skip breakfast.