there’s a hymn that she follows.    lonely,   haunting,   and   lost on words.    similar to the  eeriness  of sirens in the distance.    the lingering wonder for what’s happen.    does it fill you with  horror  to know it might’ve been messy ?    careless little whispers  of death following the living.    WHAT IF THEY AREN’T LIVING?     a new version of yourself  persistent  on having  your life.    familiar with your every expression.    the way you scrunch your nose when you laugh   ...   now mimicked by someone else.   but what if that someone else  is you.   she’s empty,   longing for something  new.     there’s always something about those who don’t care to be seen.       maybe to them it’s safety in being invisible.    unseen by the world,    allowing for easy passage through thick crowds.    but when they turned to look back   ...    well,   zev noticed them.    an attraction to their  key features,   and soon enough she reflected it right back.    brown hair now blonde,    brown eyes now blue though bordering on a grey that blends into the whites of her eyes.      “     psst     ”      she smiles,    crooked and ominous.   they lock eyes with the stranger,    before disappearing into the crowd.

don’t you understand you aren’t    ALONE  .       they’ve been following us for who knows how many years  ...  just watching us  .    wanting to be us .