Conditional Statements

the quiet walls listen while our words disappear. the empty rooms watch as our memories vanish.

there’s the thunder of how. there’s the murmur of why. the insatiable arithmetic of skin. we scratch our numbers into each other. and wait for the gamble to turn a profit.

time chews softly on tender bones. as we continue to limp toward impossible utopias.

tomorrow’s wolves lick the wind and taste our weakness. we’re marked for the hunt.

the heavy door closes softly. there’s nowhere left to go. we linger in our choices. slouching against hope’s bloody grin.

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