Restraint Unshackled

Her blood
splatter paints the wall.

It's still warm from
having raced in her veins.

Her head
rests against the masterpiece.

It's still throbbing
as though her heart left her.

She wouldn't be surprised.

Her skin
holds no wound or scar.

It's smooth to touch,
no hint of imperfection.

Her breath
catches and she falls.

It's around her now,
breathing, biting, and suffocating

but she'll wake up.

- SJM -