out of the mist,
into the end,
waking up in a
sweat-dampened bed.
i will not fall back asleep again.
they play their demented game
of tag in that
twilit school,
what used to be home to me.
they raucously call,
guffawing,
voices echoing with footsteps
against cold, unpolished tile.
this is the end.
like prey, i am caught.
it matters not which one it is
of those boys i treasure,
or did once
in my waking hours,
the result will always be the same.
detestable.
gruesome.
agonizing.
my body is used as a toy
for animals who stole their faces
but once you see a person
in such a context, with such fear
you can never
see them the same.
-m.m.
