My Autopsy

• Ella Moroney, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2020

Tie me to your cold table
And remove my eyes
They only hold your image
Cut off my hands at the wrist
I don’t want to touch, if not your skin
Remove my tongue
I don’t want to taste another’s kiss
Fill my open wounds with worms
Let them hollow my bones
The earth will love me
The way you never could