3rd Person Singular

she is the mist she is lost in by herself she is frightened of her self she feels fear in the very flesh of her the bones of her she sees herself as if she is the 3rd person singular she has lost the 'I' of herself has become an 'it' 'It' talks to herself about her self the flesh of her she wants to strip herself down to the bone her skull eager to be free of its flesh she longs to be bone white bone pared down to voices voices other than hers invade her senses sleep like rain washing the world away she wants so much not to exist hospital in the rain stuffed with suffering pain a little death every now and then rain becomes snow snow falls covers the world in quietness snow falls on those dead for centuries...centuries marble angels look hopelessly to a Heaven