Kate Battye

There is a girl,
one or two of you may know her.
She walks in the light,
when there is light.
...

Alone, I sit.
Not wanting to move.
To disturb my thoughts.
Thoughts of guilt, distraction
...

I creep around silently,
choosing my victims randomly.

I circle the machine,
...

Goose-pimples bristle up my
hunched spine,
as the thin line of red
appears,
...

Through the ages, the girl still
wanders, one step in front of the
other, hoping to find a better place
somewhere.
...

The smooth, sharp edge of the
machine, gently pierces the flesh,
as sweat gathers and minds
wander.
...

Take me to the pit of my sick
twisted mind,
pictures, poems, words and thoughts
... float,
...

As I stand at the riverside,
life ebbs away, as memories and
dreams flow past.
The river carries away all the
...