Obliterate

The knife slices through the skin smooth and clean.
I thought it would be tough, like the skin of partially thawed bell peppers.

The deep red blood flows from the wound across my heart.
I thought it would spew, like rising water from a fountain outside a government building.

The pain is dull, but creeps with intensity –spreading..
I thought it would be numbing, like a shot of Novocain.

The life is fighting, twisting, screaming, yelling.
I thought it would be silent, like thieves in the night.

The scars grow ugly, thick and gnarled.
While the knife searches for more clear smooth skin.