A New Incision Somebody stitched a new girl. A girl who knows, now, What fourteen surgeries In a single month Could take out of a soul. What staring into the eye of fate And having her spit at you Does to a heart. A heart beat, single and pure, Displayed on a screen for all to hear Something deep within her Taken out And laid on a table with the scalpels, Laid plain and proud Open and vulnerable In a way she had never been before. Helpless. Her legs shaking every time she got up, Her eyes darting to the door each time It opened, Awaiting someone new To take her away To be cut open once again In a never ending cycle A revolving door Of people digging further into her bare chest Looking for that very heartbeat Cracking her ribs Poking her veins All to take her innocent heart, Clean and pure, Like the smell of the gloves they wore, Or the cut Of a new incision. They replaced it with a new one. It beats a little slower, Dragging its thumps like warm feet in clunky boots, Wiser, Kinder, But dreadfully tired. She exists, now, as a new girl, Sewn together from the parts they found. She's got something missing, something old. But this brand new look in her eye. And whether she looks in the mirror, Or looks out the window, All she sees are the new incisions In a world once clean and good.