Dusty, rusty limbs.
Creaking, whizzing seams.
Mucky, murky mind.
And I'm inside.
Trapped,
Wrapped,
Strapped.
No way in.
No way out.
Whizzing and creaking in my ears.
Dust and rust in my lungs.
Muck and murk in my blood.
And I am inside,
Confined,
Incarcerated,
compassed.
Nowhere to go,
No one to come.
Detached.
Marking the days on the walls,
Line after line after line.
Counting my thought,
Concluding my dreams,
My marbles displacing,
One by one by one.
Misplacing my sanities,
Losing my mind.

I am the clock.
Spinning,
Wrapped around an axle.
Hands twisted over my head,
Bent sideways,
Minutes,
Hours.
No seconds.
No time for seconds.
Hours pass in minutes.
Minutes pass in seconds.
No time for seconds.
I am the clock.
Days pass in a whirl.
Hazy, dazy, blured.
Sunrise as sunset, as sunrise,
No dawn.
No morning, no noon, no dusk.
Just sleep, stagnation and dust.
On the eyelids,
Skin,
Mouth.
Into the lungs.
Stifling my breathing,
Contaminating my blood.
Dust.
A thin layer,
Inside,
Outside,
Around,
All around.

Peas,
In a pod,
Three maybe four,
Together,
Never alone.

To be Kate,
To seem normal, happy, unbothered.
To be Kate,
Unweighed, hinged, togathered.
To be Kate,
To sound quiet, blessed, sound.
To be Kate,
For just one round.
Around the wall,
Around the lawn,
Around the guard.
Than where it's scattered,
Unhinged,
Where it's barred.
To be Kate is really, really hard.

Indifferent,
In different,
Eyes,
I looked.
Inwards,
In words,
And lies,
I rooked.
Insults,
In salted,
Pies,
I cooked.

No eat,
No wholesome,
No quench,
No sip.
No night,
No day,
No stir,
No sleep.
No green,
No rainbow,
No flower,
No trees.
No sweet,
No lovely,
No warm,
No breeze.
No home,
No rest,
No place,
No port.
No shield,
No cover,
No guard,
No fort.
No soft,
No ease.
No air,
No space.
No kids,
No line,
No kind,
No race.

A thousand flavours on my tongue.
Bitter, sweet, bland and tang.
One million degrees of hot.
One persistent taste of fraught.
The sharp sting of pain and blame.
The aftertaste of guilt and shame.
The taste of blood,
The taste of death.
Of annihilation,
Of one last breath.
A taste of anguish, of despair.
A taste of horror, smothered air.
A flavoured terror, a maddened stare,
Underneath a ruthless snare.