She's cuddled into the shadows of the couch,

almost-invisible, huddled in the darkness

as fatigue sweeps in wet-red waves around her -

such a suffocating substance; she's soul-weary

and her heart can't hold out any longer now,

pumping it's sustenance heatedly into cool air

through the angry gouges on her arms and

she's barely bleeding now but doesn't realise this,

'cause somewhere in her mind there's been a power-cut.