Alone
When the living gulps acidic air and the dead cackle, blinking wide bowl eyes of suffering
When a shadow wanders mindlessly
When books are thrown out of fear but disappear in the empty holes of hell
Drifting scents of anxiety closes your mind
And shuts off your existence
For now, you float.
An eery sense of calmness haunts those who wish to be normal
But not the calm before the storm type
No,
The storm has already come and it has already left
It is the calm after
When black ants struggle out of their ruined dens and wrecked work
And when they realize they no longer have food
And die out
It is the quiet that follows
When they realize they have lost everything
Half eaten animals left on the hot road side
Where they cook slower than a turtle
Where lungs and thumping hearts are run over by a destructive rubber wheel
Blood spraying like a shower head for a tired millionaire
But they don't care
