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Society
You will try to run from them.
But they're coming from all directions.
Don't come near me!
Don't touch me please!
They'll eat your brains out,
Because that's all they know to do.
They aren't zombies,
Or aliens,
Or animals.
They are with you everywhere,
You have been raised for this.
You'll never know it's happening,
You'll only know when it's done.
When you look in the mirror,
And see your body,
Dry.
Dead.
Hung.
poem
by
Antoinette Carver
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