A few more yards, still trying to catch our breath The trees give way to an old abandoned farm Broken fences A barn leaning into the dark Figures scattered between the yard and trees We stay where the branches can keep us hidden And watch. One crouches beside something dead Another pulls at a rope around his wrists One hasn't moved since we arrived And one keeps talking to an empty chair He pauses like somebody answered Then starts again. They used to smile I know these faces I saw them hanging in the house we left behind There was still something human looking back from every frame Now their eyes are open but nobody's inside. Some whisper to the trees like they're sharing secrets Others nod to voices we cannot hear One keeps saying, "She told me to wait." Another answers, "She's still here." They don't speak to each other. They speak through one another. They used to smile Before the hunger before the rage Before something hollowed out the space behind their names They used to smile And the worst part is I can still see who they were underneath what they became. "She's listening." "Don't let her see you." "I did what she asked." Losing yourself doesn't happen all at once First, you stop knowing which thoughts belong to you. One of them looks straight at us Another turns without warning Every voice stops. This isn't good. They scream! They scream! AAAAAHHHH! They tear themselves free They crawl backward through the mud They disappear into the barn into the trees into the shadows— anywhere we can't see them. They used to smile Before the hunger before the rage Before something hollowed out the space behind their names They used to smile And the worst part is... now they only run from us.
