I swear I will.

I will burn you out of me.
I will find every interstitial pocket of you
and fill it with gasoline and napalm.
If I can get the flames hot enough,
The flesh will cauterize.
I will lose skin, but not my blood.

And if this new scar tissue
Hardens the soft meat of my ventricles,
You can breathe softer.

I will watch as the
Rough, pink claws
Make their mesh across me,
And add texture and complexity
To a once simple joy.

I will let others wonder
At the geometric patterns
Now rising out of my chest.