there is someone standing before me
with dirt staining their fingertips,
and crimson dripping from their wrists.
they see me staring at the self-inflicted scars
and look away.
you are ashamed
there is someone standing before me
with obsidian eyes and an ebony heart.
a shroud of silence fills the room.
they contemplate the value of the price of living.
i'd be better off dead, they say.
you are alone
there is someone standing before me.
translucent leather clings to their bones.
there is no flesh on this living skeleton.
a meal is shoved before them.
the stitches on their lips prevent indulgence.
you are starved
there is someone standing before me.
i watch them trace their battle scars,
pondering of adding another to their collection.
they prepare themselves for the guillotine.
fear is replaced by relief.
you are numb
