I walk in and
There he is …
Looking nothing
Like himself.
The blood trapped
Beneath his skull
Seeps out …
Through his eyes
His ears …
His nose.
It fills his head.
Pushes life out
Steadily … gradually … totally.
His eyes bulge
Near bursting …
Deep purple
Over-ripe plums.
Crimson gauze packs
His nostrils …
His ears trail
Dark dried rivulets.
His chest rises and falls,
But I know …
He’s not there.
– jml
