Early this morning I kept getting flashes of an image I'd rather not describe in prose, but needless to say it was what kept me awake all night, so I wrote this.
You were beautiful once, I'm sure.
I can feel you, clawing through my intestines.
Your long golden hair would make Jason weep.
You've scarred my retinas. I can't sleep.
A soft pink cotton sweater, knitted with a grandmother's love.
The insects crawl through you, you great dead metropolis!
The remnants of your eyes say you died peacefully.
Your face, forever in pain, cries your murderer's name.
My dear, how long have you been sleeping?
Dear corpse, how long have the maggots been eating?
You kept me up awake at night,
You keep me up still.
I had difficulty remembering your name.
Was your name eaten too?
You had a slim figure all your own,
Now it's all theirs.
I don't know who you are,
Or should I say who you "were"?
It's half past four and I'm thinking of you;
have I thought of you before?
It's half past four and I'm hiding from you;
I've made sure to lock my door.