top of page
  • Writer's pictureStacy Curry

39

Darkness awaits,

We clamber in.

Hungry for that

New beginning.

Tightly packed,

Skin rubs against

Stranger skin.

Stomachs growl

Teeth begin to show

Much like ribs.

A door slams

We wait, afraid.

No movement,

No sound.

Forsaken.

No exit,

No help.

We freeze.


 

Image by Dominic Egginton via Unsplash

Commentaires


bottom of page