Them

She walks into the place with her dead eyes- no one is reflected there- the iris swallows whoever looks too long. The air is thick with words unspoken, deafening thoughts beating inside our skulls. Careful, quiet them. She might hear.

She walks into the place with light hiding in the corners of her smile. The air rustles. Her feet move forward but she goes nowhere. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. Mirage. She smiles again. Illusion. Don’t play with hope.