She’s wedged inside a cobwebbed corner,
Call the coroner; she can’t move her skeleton.
Her skin hangs over her bones like a curtain, all delicate-
Begging to be opened; Stripped from blackness when the sunlight hits
But her throat tightens on the rays and she starts to choke on it.
Swallowing her spit, esophagus clawing at the bullet.
Burning raw, crawling down her maw she locks her jaw to load her stomach.
Angels fire shots down from their caving in heaven, praying they hit.
Her skin begins perspiring, inspiring the seed the devil planted to split its sheathe
And birth the demon that she had always conceived.
Heavy hearts heave, lungs clog as they breathe;
On her face creeps a smile as she sighs peacefully,
When she feels Death’s grip slowly tightening.

-SLuR