Mad Scientist

the parts of her are categorized;
alphabetized for reference,
lining the shelves of a sterile lab
among the white coats and petri dishes
There's frailty, hope, innocence,
misunderstanding, sensitivity, sexuality,
vulnerability,
and lastly, a vile of will;
its color faded to a milky blue
of the crone’s eye.

simmering concoctions,
white lines,
and age old lies.
his angry fists
always impending...
she braced for his blow
strangely comforted in the finality of the violence
which sent the ingredients of her,
the sum of her
to the floor.

jars of her,
formerly labeled and tidy,
crash, ooze and spill,
mixing
reformulating the confusion.
as she bleeds helplessly into herself,
on a cold, cold floor
unnatural and unexplained
a new creation arises.
a clone of the girl
he once knew

she is useless to him now.