Autopsy

If you took a knife to me, ran it down my spine, would you see what's left of me--would you see what's mine?

Would you see the way I dream in colors or the way I see in grays? Or maybe you would see the way I pine for brighter days.

Would you see the flowers blooming in my heart? Or would you only see the rot that grows inside, tearing me apart?

So if you took a knife to me, ran it down my spine, would you see what's left of me--or would you see what's mine?