Taken.
Eyes flutter open to a blank screen;
my mind manifests no thoughts.

Torn.
Like a pig for the slaughter,
this is not the nightmare I thought it was.

Departure.
Exploring and taking—
I feel as hollow as an empty shell.

Drying.
My body rests too still, too cold, too empty.
I lay merely a medley of skin.

Packaging.
I feel as if I can breathe,
yet I can’t quite catch my breath.

Reunion.
The familiar feeling I used to know returns,
but I can’t feel its beat.

Cleansed.
I am drunk with the desire to understand
how I could feel awake when I know I am not.

Covered.
I come to the realization
that this could be my elimination.

Stuffed.
I find no comfort in this feeling,
for I know my inner soul surrendered.

Wrapped.
Trapped in the shell I cannot escape,
I shut my eyes to depart from the blank screen.