with shaky hands
he grabs the knife
cutting through
scooping out
the slimy innards
to be tossed
in the trash
with yesterday’s hope

with blurred vision
he stabs
leaving jagged triangles
for eyes
an open wound
to breath through
before slowly sawing
a perpetual grin

he is covered
in sweat
gore
the rancid scent of sorrow
staring
at the smile
that goes unreflected
in his own eyes