Immune

Before the-, you can forget all about it; go ahead, and laugh.
When the eyes change, you both gain something new - keeps them alive.
Teeth bared; stand still - absolutely too late; tear you limb-from-limb. “Why do you do it?”
Envision pieces, wonder off-to -thing new. “Doesn’t hurt.”
Limp, rake, struggle - diseased, walking dead congregate; just watch. “You’re inhuman.”
Spoken into existence, carelessly forged in silence, -ways ends the same. “Maybe.”
As you, too limp - post-ravaging entrails imagined; lumbering corpse thoughts, from me:
“I’d like to be wrong.”

Reviews

[Butterflymom]

This is a very interesting piece. Very descriptive. It seems a little bit disconnected...or maybe it was me. All in all very good writing!