My chest spilled open
but blood did not come out

diamonds and rubies and gold doubloons tumbled out

jewels of the most coveted, the ones with the most worth, inside of me.

It was some sick, ironic game. I was filled with things people wanted, things that had worth, yet I had none myself.

A game, a trick, a ruse, a prank. That was all it was.

The riches kept tumbling out of my chest cavity, spilling onto the floor. Slicing into the Gray like a knife to soft butter. The gems filled the floor. A colorful sea of meaning, a bouncy-ball pit of money.

I felt dizzy, watching them fall. Maybe I had a fear of heights. Maybe I had a fear of jewels.

Maybe,

maybe,

maybe

No certainties in my life

No certainties but one... the one everyone knows is lurking around the corner, death.