“Diseased. You’re diseased.

I’m sorry there’s no hope on your own.”

Hospital lights are revealing. 

They expose.

They sting.

They burn. 

The doctor’s white coat blinds me.

His diagnosis stuns me more. 

The metal stethoscope freezes my chest. 

So cold it feels like fire. 

“It’s a problem with your heart.

Your mortality rate is high.” 

My hand on my heart,

No allegiance can I pledge.

I feel the soft rhythm, 

Betraying me.

Killing me.

Softly. 

“Isn’t there cure?” I ask.

Desperate for the answer.

“What can’t be fixed?

Inflammation?

Dehydration?” 

The doctor shakes his head.

“Transgression.” 

“It seems your heart is torn apart,

Full of deceit and malice. 

The cure won’t be found,

Apart from substitution.” 

The white walls close me in.

Too sterile for my sin.

I’m a dark and filthy mess,

In a spotless place.

I may not be a biologist,

But I know what “fatal” means.

I may not be a mortician,

But I know where “six feet under” is.

“I’ve seen this case a thousand times,” he said.

“Don’t worry, it’s inborn. 

It’s in your genes,

It’s in your code,

A part of you like your memory.

Someone before you had it,

Now you have it all the same. 

You took a bite,

You gave up the fight. 

And now your heart’s in dire straits.” 

I’m losing my breath,

The black spots dance,

A gory jig before my eyes.

Desperation overcomes me. 

I’m not ready to die. 

“You’ve got to find a cure!” 

I scream. 

“I can’t go out just now!” 

The doctor writes a prescription.

“There is one way.” 

My diseased heart beats faster.

“Well let’s take the chance!”

“It’s a matter of someone else. 

You see the only way to live,

Is to take life from another. 

A good heart,

A clean heart, 

A pure heart,

Must be broken and blood poured out.” 

“Where can this heart be found?”

I ask with measured angst. 

The doctor wrinkles up his brow.

“Only in the highest state.

See you’ll need a transfusion.

A blood transfusion. 

A transfusion from a heart that pumps

Blood that covers clean.

But we’ve only found one man,

With such a heart as this. 

A heart untouched by the disease. 

A heart untouched by sin.” 

My hopes crashes to the floor,

Like fragile glass.

“Such a man would never die,

To save someone like me.” 

The doctor then smiles,

Faintly, but sincerely. 

“Oh I don’t know,” he says. 

“You never know what love can do.” 

“But how can he love me,

When he’s never seen me? 

He doesn’t know my heart is bad.

A rotting corpse within my life.” 

Now the doctor smiles strong,

But his eyes are filled with tears.

“Ahh there’s the beauty,” he whispers. 

“He knows you through and through.

He knows your hate.

He knows your doubt. 

He knows your thoughts.

He knows you like you know your hands,

And still, his heart is filled with love.” 

I sit on my fear

And cry softly, knowing the end is coming. 

“I only wish I could meet such a man,

Who escaped this deadly place.” 

The doctor removes his blinding white coat, 

And takes a needle to his arm. 

“You’ve already met him,” he says.

“You’ve already met me.” 

And with a practiced stroke he pierces his arm,

And the blood begins to flow.

The clearest, purest blood the world has ever known. 

Working fast he connects the IV,

Now the blood is flowing to my heart.

“How can you?” I ask incredulous. 

“You cannot die for me!” 

“I can because I love you,

And to see you die would be death for me.” 

And as his life ebbs away, and my own begins to grow,

I feel my heart beat steady. 

I feel his love within. 

“You see my heart is breaking too,” he says through pain. 

“Breaking for you my precious child, 

And broken hearts bleed clear.” 

As the last drop empties into my veins,

I am restored. 

The doctor takes a step back,

And falls to the floor.

For a moment I can’t blink,

Can’t move,

Can’t speak,

Can’t breathe.

The only man to ever truly live,

Has died.

He has died for me.

And as I find my way back to earth,

I feel like I should cry.

But The Doctor wouldn’t want that.

There’s more to my life. 

I’m diseased you see. 

My heart is black.

But a perfect man gave me his blood. 

So now I love despite death. 

I couldn’t fix it on my own.

Someone else had to die. 

But now my heart is steady.

Beating within me.

Beating out the story of life. 

What kills me is covered daily. 

Covered up my transgression.

I received a blood transfusion. 

There was a substitution. 

No more inflammation. 

No more dehydration.

A perfect man has saved me.

I have found salvation.