This town is filled with strays
Many die while others thrive
No one likes the survivors.
Angry, anxious, and violent
running away when they can
swiping when they can't.
Ugly, scarred, and horrible
A facade that's kept them alive
Has become part of a now foreign mind.
My heart beats with theirs
I run as they do, and push away
Anything that might help or harm me.
I watch one have a moment's peace
Which is familiar and rare enough to me
to know it will not last for long.
These moments are precious, though
Enjoyed not by the dead
But the survivors.