XCII | Some Time

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I'm remembering

all the names
I've forgotten,

all the faces
I've forgotten,

their screams, their blood, their dead eyes.

Not everything.

Just enough

to know,
to be horrified.

All the patients.

They didn't leave.

They were killed.

I'm gagging

from the smell,
from the shock,
from the heat.

The room's gotten darker now.

The smoke
clouding the entrance

of the studio room

is thickening.

It'll be too dark
to see anything

without Tammie's glowing grey eyes.

She's hopped off the bed
now,

walking through the sea of
cupboards and leotards

to my side.

I've just opened up
the next pandora's box.

There should be

no more

dead people left.

The leotards float
like paper

from my hand,

drifting
like confetti

to the floor.

Queenie.

Her body hasn't decomposed yet.

I can easily make out
the features that identify her.

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