It is no use

It is no use

I’m not cutting off my

Pinky finger

Bleeding from the eyes

I’ll not empty my guts

Out onto the floor

Go belly up

In front of you

Even if you stuff

A rag in my mouth

Beat me around the head

Force feed me

With the torn out

Pages of a dictionary

I can’t do that

I am not a vending machine

Plug me in

Feed me with small change

And wait for the penny

To drop

Collect and go

Whatever will it mean

Anyway

Churn them out

They’re only words

We use them every day

There is nothing special

In it

In me

Let me be

I am played out

Picked clean

An exhausted

Worked out

Gold mine

A husk of a thing

A dried-up

Old lag

Leave me for dead

If that’s all, I am

To you

I’d rather die now

Which is a particularly

Stupid thing to say

Almost poetic

In its empty threat

I am a coward

At heart

Perhaps we all are

But I will not bleed for you

Not today.