don’t look for me

flashlight, flashlight

searching for me in the dark

vicious clicks and chirps abound

I am hunted for sport

far from invincible, I am meager retort

hush, don’t make a sound

there’s a gash on my forehead

bruise on my wrist

and tears streaming endless

but I mustn’t let him know I’m here

he pities the dead, unable to be played with

so all of his objectifications are strung up

to the ceiling, blood dripping down hooks

giant, rusted things they are

possibly belonging to sunken ship