Dissection

The only thing supporting my spine was a fractured sliver of a rusted nail; or what used to be a nail.
The only thing keeping my lungs from stopping was emaciated, second-hand, partly moist air.
My limbs were sewn together with thin, degrading black thread.
My head wobbled on its unsteady frame, held together by mere rotted flesh and vilely grotesque veins.
In my head were quarantined hopes, dreams and thoughts that would never escape.
My rib cage cracked in numerous places.
It leaked all of the love in my heart that had been held captive for so long out onto the open woulds of my chest.
I watched it pour, almost like a delicate black rainbow, spewing out in front of my mildly amused eyes.
A tight grimace fell upon my eroding lips as I watched every inch of my body collapse into the eternal resting ground I now call home.
My. Peaceful. Dissection.