their faces laid bare
their skin giving a hollow feeling to the touch
I stood there with a wide eyed jaded expression
curious with the thought that each one of the passing similar looking figures lived life such as I did
within my mind I could recall reaching out to them yet receiving nothing
shallowness is what they would consume
speaking towards one another in a language that I can remember sounding foreign and otherworldly
and by consuming as they did
my mask would form
YOU ARE READING
Crossing the dark moon
PoetryIt is up to every man to choose what path they follow. Whether it be in fairness or out of spite, the choice is up to the individual at the end of the road
