I tried to carve you out of me in one go.
The blade wasn’t sharp enough.
Strings of sinew, slivers of blood.
They still connected me to you.
Axe, dagger, knife, none sufficed.
You might have come loose from me,
But there is more, stuck deep inside.
Grown around my heart completely.
My hand trembles; I pick up the scalpel.
I stare into the mirror at what I must do.
Carve, butcher, rip it out; throw you away.
But what if I’d rather let me choke on you?