I hear the sirens whirring,
The neighbours must have alerted the police.
I pray to god it’ll be over soon
To give me sweet release.
A policeman’s face fills the window,
Authoritative, yet sickened by the sight.
He can see my pain across the street,
Shaking from the events of last night.
Next thing I know,
There are shouts at the door.
I can’t answer it,
I can’t even crawl the floor.
Knocking down the door
They all come flooding in.
Their stunned silence
Breaks the din.
I nod best I can
Towards the fridge.
One man edges towards it,
Flings it open on it’s hinge.
He’d stopped me from telling my story
For as long as I possibly could.
Gave him time to make his escape
And leave the country for good.
Blood seeps from my elbows
And from my ankles too.
Everyone is so surprised
I hadn’t died and turned blue.
The fridge is laden with vegetables,
It’s just that the meat
Consists of my tongue,
My hands and my feet.
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