I Was Human
written by: Melissa Lemay
While lying in a deep ravine, and
pond’ring things I’d not yet seen,
blink’d starry in the distant sky
and crackl’d lightning, drawing nigh.
The car’d careened over the road,
and halted in an elder grove —
the flow’rs were white and weary hung,
a maiden’s headdress come undone,
and speckl’d o’er the stoutly trees
swayed not a spot, devoid of breeze —
not ev’n a cricket could be heard,
no strumming wing, nor faintest chirp —
then! Sudd’nly a twig, it snapped.
I smartly inhaled, held my breath.
Impossible ‘twould be to forge
a path on foot into the gorge.
Cold rain pour’d down upon my head,
and, running down my arms, ran red;
a wave of panic o’r me washed,
as gilded bolts above me flashed.
Then came the hush’ed gurgled cry —
’twas then I thought I’d surely die.
I urgently attempt’d moving —
impossible as I was human —
as looking down I quickly saw
right through my leg — a metal bar.
No time to contemplate or fath’m —
a blinding light flashed in the chasm.
A grotesque life form slithered down —
I tried to scream, but made no sound —
to where my broken body lay
and looked at me with alien eyes.
Mechanical and piercing shrills
emitted by it gave me chills —
my life, it flash’d behind my eyes
as pressure built between my thighs —
consciousness faded in and out.
I awoke surrounded by mask’d crowd,
and they all looked down over me
from a medical gallery.
I woke again unsure of where,
and far from being laissez-faire —
my emptiness, it felt obscene —
they’d made me their alien queen.
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