The Clock seems to be alive

taking steps toward me

tick after slow ominous tick.

Time approaches without my

consent and lays its heavy

hand on my head.  I have

been separated from a

sensual life.  

That simple and frightening fact

escapes me

as I wither for an hour

or so each day.

A dry, dormant shell

is all that is left of me.

An incurable

hunger, and insatiable 

pain

this is all I have left

and it chews me apart.