Standing stiffly in an elevator,
An automatic mouth swallowing,
The girl who so surely stepped inside,
When she was little,
Hoping for a ride.

The hot breath of the box,
Padded mouth clamped so tightly,
Suddenly opened with hushed awe,
To the second top floor,
Revealing cold mannerism made of marble,
A tiled suite of swirling colors.

The second floor,
Gave her shudders of indecision.
Seconds after the iron gates swung so,
the marbled floor, the perfect still life,
She clutched her heart and closed her eyes.

And colors never swirled before her,
The anonymous girl, her eyes stayed shut,
As the elevator doors swung forth,
Revealing another silent still life.
She was scared of the sight,
The long tiled hall.

After several heavy moments,
Of hearing doors close all around her,
Did eyes slowly come open again,
To the ever slight comfort of the room,
Hearing her heart beat through the thin wall.

The automatic mouth took breaths of darkness,
Its shallow breathing the same as her heart’s even beat.
For several swollen moments,
The bated hums of the elevator matched the fluttering of her eyes
But she could feel the quick change; in seconds she was on the ground.
She lay there hearing the elevator humming the tune of her death.

She could see her breath stain on the window as she struggled back up,
Panting in pain, she beat on the door.
Her breathing became ragged; her heartbeat came fast and cruel.
But the elevator noticed no change, it sang the same.
Came slowly, slowly to the feared second floor.

The girl shrieked in despair and sank to the floor,
Teeth bit into her veins and elevator music pounded in her poisoned blood.

Closed her eyes one last time as the metal teeth of the doors,
The mouth and the tongue,
Spit her out onto the cold marble tile, already pale with death.
The elevator sardonically closed its doors,
and started humming its way up to the third floor,
Where a similar young girl was hoping for a ride.