Spectres

[Q]

a rudimentary evil becomes us.
a tattered disguise to hide our shame.
we beg for... something.
we never stop to fight this
primitive evil as it becomes us.

i dangled once
like a marionette.
each gesture someone's own
individual, unique,
but never mine,

and this rudimentary evil became me.

you were there with spread legs,
just watching.
you couldn't save me.
or anyone at all

and a rudimentary evil became you,
became us all.

and now you turn away.
you won't look back.
i understand.

i feel it, too:
this uncanny knack for evil that
consumes us all.