Rotting Mass

in abandoned shelters

where the air hangs thick with piss

i can almost taste it

who would choose to live like this

it is decay that teems with life

it is the fabric of the soil

without the rotting mass

there grow no flowers

an evacuation

but there’s nowhere else to go

an abomination

made to destroy their own homes

ghosts

anywhere the flowers grow

underneath the circling crows

their life goes on

there grow no flowers on concrete graves

their lives were never yours to take

forgiveness wasn’t theirs to give

in us they live

in us they live