Behind the mask (devised performative writing)

Can’t breath

Then a memory

Breath deeper

Heart pounds as I look around

This zombie land

Not quite living but alive

I sit amongst the dead

A fallen giant

It lies motionless as I stand

I face south and greet the sun

It warms my eyes

I take a few steps in that direction

Drinking in everything

My eyes can explore

I bend down and

run my fingers through

the long dying strands

Drawing blood from a thorn

Hidden under the dead

I take a deep breath

I can’t smell anything

I hear an alien buzzing

Constantly in the background

Over powering

Until I hear the children

Their laughter

I wonder if it

Keeps the living alive

Despite the alien buzzing

Why did some not die?

I reach down and pick a living

Green

It is soft like a feather

It’s smell

Pungent fresh

It makes me wonder

What is it about this place?

I pick a standing dead

Peel the seeds off in one pull

And spread them on the ground

The ground in some places is

Dead

Did no one care?

That constant alien buzzing returns

I am reminded where I am

Then something gently touches my lips

I have lips?

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