Deprived of your voice, your skin, your body. Left on a stake , driven into the ground. Under the sun. Like obscene fruit, ripening under the heat of a merciless sun. Left with your thoughts . Yet soon, even those begin to fade. Soon it will be that wisp you in the moment, and the open stretch of soil and rocks that lay before you. Soon flies will begin to swarm, maybe ants or animals seeking carrion. Maybe then you won't feel alone.