it’s all dead and i can’t stop staring at it. in the dark, my straining eyes glimpse splayed limbs, feeble fingers, limp locks. it’s ugly and repulsive and the smell is enough to wretch. stuck though: a passerby drawn in by misfortune and misery, a fool enticed by his wayward imagination.
of course… the dead have nothing to offer. that’s why they’re dead
“im tired of staring at dead things” -doc M. Hatten