I look at the gash
open and gasping
blood spewing out
with each heartbeat

the steel between
my fingers
tremor and work
to stitch the ruin close

the panting flesh
like fish out of water
each dying cell
screaming for help

the mask suffocates
the air humid and hot
the bright lamp above
making tired eyes water

and outside sits rows
of people caught up
with wounds bleeding dry
or hidden beneath flesh

I sweat and I try
To keep up the work
but how sad it is that
I cannot help them

all at once