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


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


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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