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When I cut open his chest

I still remember,
That pungent odour,
As I slit his throat,
In one clean stroke.
My knife moved,
Across his parched skin,
From the dip below his chin,
To the hollow in his stomach.
As I reached in,
And grabbed his heart,
Quelled by infarct,
Couldn’t help but wonder
About words unsaid,
Paths untread,
Moments of joy and fear,
Tortuous grief,
Bizarre beliefs,
If he cried,
As the end neared,
Cushioned in my palm,
A man’s existence,
Devoid of soul,
Never to be whole.
.
.
.
A loud bell clanged,
Snapped out of my reverie,
An ephemeral memory,
Anatomy Class is over,
Time for lunch.

Hi I am Shruti Iyer, a medical student from India with a penchant for writing.
My blog – https://musingsbyamedstudent.wordpress.com/

My instagram – shrutii_1005

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