Chronic Blood

The wheel still turns as she lies... broken
Shattered and used beneath soft focus sky
She is contemplating life
Her pain, her ability to move
And her time from this moment
Not this immediate time
That will take care of itself
Acute angles are easy
Her mind is travelling chronically
Obtuse thoughts should come later
Much later ... it's too soon
Can she comprehend it?
Her body moves of its own accord
It is being taken away
and she starts to laugh
Maybe she waited her whole life
To become this fucked up
She had known and she now knew
So had she planned for it?
Predicted it?
Surely not

~ Copyright Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) 2008