Husk

Quinn Ferguson - October 13, 2023

i am surrounded

by husks void of emotion

with cold, lifeless skin

they move as we do

but feigning as they partake;

their bones creak each step

their hearts are hollow

they have no need for its blood

bleeding begets sin

their eyes glossed over,

as empty as their own tombs,

cursing passersby

they’ve seen my homestead

trudging heinously inside

searching for fresh meat

my pervasive wounds

render my body futile

in a resistance

screaming or silent,

the end is the very same:

with cold, lifeless skin