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Bystander

A tree falls in the forest.

It doesn’t make a sound.

I’m sprawled in suffocating silence,

Slowly decomposing in my bedsheets.

 

The half-moon watches from the window,

Its surface covered in deep grey scars,

Which is how I imagine my brain looks

After constant toxic exposure.

 

I’m always in my bed, never sleeping.

I’m always on my phone, never talking.

I’m less than a bystander now,

I’m taking it all lying down.

 

I’m a pillow full of muffled screams.

I’m a mirror full of murdered dreams.

I’m clogged and overflowing with fears.

I’m choking on my angry tears.

 

The half-moon watches from the window,

Like the grim, grieving ghost of Earth.

The half-blind eye can see the shadow creeping

To cover everything, smother everything, soon.

The Walk

Remaining Dead

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