Before a Phantom Joins an Opera

A cage in a circle ring,
blue. With the lights on
people watching carelessly
pick away the vertebrae

listen.
they are hacking away
my flesh--
how it tears away
and my living becomes
the bashing of the living stocks of youth

I run broken fingers up their shoulders,
all so numb but yet I plead:
"Save me sir,
please no more"
but yet again
I cringe for the blade.


and though my old ways have gone
and vanished
you took up hold in my every
guilt.
How do I combat an ailing sickness
that does appear
whenever does you.

please help me heal what's left of my bones,
these wounds so less then living,
or hang me up and suffocate me with fingers
whichever way
makes it easier
for you to live.