This is Not a Poem!

This is not a poem!
There are no feelings,
I feel nothing in tandem
With dealings
With you.
So what do I do?
There's a growth inside of me
A pustule, a cancer.
Wanting to be
Outside. A blur
Of pain.
I'm going insane.
I need to get it out of me.
I'll cut it out.
But there's nothing to see
Under my skin about
The thing. 
Keep cutting.
Nothing but red,
But enough shades to keep it interesting. 
I'm not dead,
But digressing. 
Back on topic
I feel sick
Is it in my belly?
Down my throat,
Up comes - nothing to see
Except defeat.
It's still in there.
Where?
It's a doctor that I lack.
If I tell you all my symptoms and sit
Still for an examination,
Can you find it?
I'll tell you anything
And everything.
If I let you put 
Your tongue in me
Will you find it?
Please? Can you see?
Can you make me well?
Not enough to tell.
I'll do anything
And everything.
Do you need to see more
To diagnose?
I've looked on my skin before,
But you're the doctor. No clothes.
Can you see where I've been
Looking? I knew it wasn't on my skin.
It's eating me, now
What will fill me?
I think I know how
To feel less empty. 
I'll be quiet
Please find it.
You're eating me, now,
Nothing fills me.
I don’t know how
I got so empty.
The cum
Didn't show you what I am suffering from.
It's still in there
But that's all.
I am the cancer
Fall.
This is not a poem.
Or a person.