my inner voice
Be a still shadow when the void is
smeared
onto concrete walls.
The void—
a deafening drone—
devours shadows that dare speak.
It closes in, fast—
in my head it whispers:
Join us. You are
hollowed enough
to blend in without fault.
I sit still—
because I was told:
If I move—If I shiver—
I become the smeared void.
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