I awaken to a scarlet pain erupting from my lips, a copper deluge that steals my breath and leaves me gasping, desperate for air.
My blood stains the ashen waste before me as I clutch myself, writhing in agony.
I vomit. Pure filth screams from my mouth, chunks of flesh and old blood flee from between my teeth. I can feel a deep boiling inside me, my intestines stretching and tearing against my throat as I struggle to hold back.
I fail, feeling myself emptying like an untied balloon as my strength leaves me, my eyes bulging and veins popping from my skin. A dark sludge oozes from my pores as I lay exhausted on my powder gurney.
My vision darkens as I struggle to stay conscious. I can't breathe, can't think, can't feel anything but searing pain from within as grit and flesh pour from my lips.
I cough, a chunky mess of rotten meat bouncing off my tongue as if shot from a cannon hidden within me.
A wet gasp rasps from my throat, finally bringing oxygen to my starving lungs, a pittance of strength returning to my limbs.
With this breath, I curl into a fetal position, my eyes streaming crimson tears as I sob in agony.
How?
Why?
What happened to me?
I find myself wrenching my fingers, my hands clasped as if in prayer as I choke, "Why?"
No answer graces my ears.
I lay there for a long while, unbearable heat boiling within me, escaping as a pitiful whimper. I close my eyes, focusing inwards until I see those branching paths, vines and bulbs. There are none. Shredded leaves and torn branches, metaphorical carnage is all I can sense within me. Maybe I pushed too hard yesterday, maybe I was too hasty. Whatever I've done, there's nothing left within, no ember of strength, no flame of determination. It's gone. All that remains is my body, a broken form with no spirit.