Like Death


My voice is quiet
like death,
I am the dark blurb in the corner
of the room.

I hear the angsty cries
of the teens
(am I still one?)
in the room, and I
because I realize, now,

that we all are one.

I found Jesus
hiding in the closet with a woman,
it was dark in there.

Soulless black creatures roam
across the green,
I've been watching them
all day.
I think they can feel my eyes,

feel the threat that I represent
bearing down on their necks.

My voice is quiet
like death,
screams echo through the air.