She managed a single thought

To form

Inside her vacuum of

What she knew she ought

To do. 

So along the darkened dreary 

Tracks,

The stones all upturned and

Spurned with lack

Of yearly upkeep,

She walked in her sleep.

The porter cleared the way for her,

Lifting the 

Latch and failing 

To catch her name,

But welcomed her nonetheless.

Precisely before the waking point,

She blinked with empty eyes,

Filling up with daytime,

And everyone saw the

Insides.