Her heart is gone
She walks on broken feet
Dragging all her entrails
Through the street,
She stumbles on.

Her brain has slipped,
“I don’t know where I am”
Following some new
Encoded plan,
A whole new script.

Her soul has died,
Just greyed and peeling skin.
Rot spreads to the outside
From within.
It’s cold inside.

The mind is mad,
Filled with a silent moan
Sometimes pushing through
Her lips. She groans
For what she had.

– s. Clark