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Standing in the doorway
rooted to the ground
wanting to flee
by catastrophe.

Telephonic calamity
relayed from afar
ignites volcanic eruptions
in the room.

Larvae engulf me
slowly filling my space
burning me
choking me -
it really hurts, brother.

Eruptions lessen
ash clings everywhere
it blackens the mood.
I smear it all over my body,
camouflage myself
against aging predators
cursing amongst dying embers.

I steal away
a path of black footprints
behind me.