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