Flat Line Poem by Rachel Byrum

The clock's ticking
Hands moving
Bells tolling
Blood dripping
Screams echo down the halls
Foot steps fall
Faces; pale, gaunt, with fear
Whispers in my ear
Lights flicker
Laughter fills the air
Rough hands caress my hair
Hands grip my face
Holding me in this place
I cannot look away
Words falter
The tears begin to fall
Fabric rips
Flesh exposed.
Raw, naked, innocence
Torn away.
Gun shots.
rifle's fire
A blade against my chest
The light begins to fade
The world begins to spin
sounds... blend in..
......falling..
falling
down
down



down...............