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Trinity Dempsey


in Ominous Darkness,
burdensome clouds,
heavy with Sorrow,
are very near weeping;
a crowd of obscurity—
human forms milling aimlessly;
amidst the unknown—
somber face of my sister
locking eyes with me
before slumping
to the wet, dull pavement;
the mob encircles her,
chanting monotones;
I’m cradling her head,
sobbing and pleading,
shrieking her name
and begging her return;
she’s limp and unresponsive;
apathetic zombies
paint symbols on pedicured toes
in shades of blood,
brush-stroke perplexing characters;
straining, I think I can hear
her frail voice calling to me
in the distance,
but I am an invalid;
just as quickly as it left,
life returns;
we share a bewildered
and concerned look—
intense stare of disbelief;
she whispers as if
being overheard would
necessitate retaliation;
“He said I could come back,
but he’s not done with me yet.”