Anyway I went out back and chopped off my left hand. It hurt that much. I threw the hand at the house. It hit the window with a bloody thwop. The doctors built me a new hand a week later to match the other one. Now I've got two new hands, and neither of them remember how your hair felt running through their fingers.
When you left for your mother's again, well I lost control of my ax. Either way the doctors said I was better off with this new leg. I can barely tell the difference anymore. I think I run faster now. The trees seem to fall quicker too. What matters most to me is the fact that this leg will never remember the way you would run your foot up and down its calf as we lay in bed whispering our love to each other.
It wasn't until those suspicious lumberjacks approached me and handed me those blue papers that I figured out was going on. Of course they startled me, just as I was making the final cuts in a large Douglas Fir. Well the ax hit me right in the sternum, and well, you know how strong I am. For a while I was glad to be dying, but then the doctors gave me my new organs. I got new kidneys, a new spleen, of course a whole new digestive tract. Best of all they made it so I didn't need a heart.
So I guess you understand now why I didn't cry in court. Why I didn't cry when you took the kids away from me. I hope you even understand why I didn't cry when you went into great detail about your love for your new husband. That was really unnecessary, I sometimes think that the judge should have stopped you. I just wrote this so you would understand that I didn't cry because I couldn't. Otherwise I'd rust up.
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