no tomorrow. only the past. louder still with every scrape.
ambivalent predators. tangled in the scent of the hunt.
frailty tallies its jejune epiphanies. while the meat rots. and the bullets stale.
far pretends to measure. close threatens to betray. insisted by our grief. we begin to negotiate with failure.
the gentle thieves administer their bandages. the rest lap at the blood.
the lies leave us limping. the truth forces us crawl.
we're the obvious monsters and we're the subtle ones. the pace of our oblivion uninterrupted.
Adding a link to open mic night at dverse to further the community.