Pain shooting from his brain straight down to his stomach
as he catches a glimpse of a leg running out the door,
a trail of blood left on the floor.
Shaking under the blankets,
he tells his right hand to pull the covers down,
unwilling to rouse, this stubborn hand stays put.
The man becomes angry, reaching over to shake the hand,
to wake it up from its slumber.
Pushing down with his left, he searches desperately for his right hand,
his right arm, his right leg,
Nothing but the sheets beneath him, the padding of the mattress.
his left arm reaches to his chest, feels his heart beating,
drumming in his chest, his fingers crawl toward his right,
but the search ends prematurely with a hand covered in blood,
thick red blood oozing along the jagged edges of his middle,
torn skin and lacerated veins.
Eyes wide, he chokes, spits out blood
and falls back down on the mattress.