The energy has left me; I no longer exist. I am only body parts, like a machine set on auto pilot. My mind is elsewhere, on an adventure somewhere in Peru, or under the Pacific ocean's front. It's like they own me, gouge out my eyes, cut off my tongue and make me pretty; pinch my waist and paint my lips, sew them like a designer dress. If the rest have given up, why shouldn't I, a black pawn among kings and queens?