Graying-Out Process

there's

a strange concoction of

repulsion

and

disgust

as

hollow eyes peer

back to me.

it won't be long

before i am

coughing

the mutated name

i will have acquired,

choking on the

sound

of who i am

turning into,

the pallid cage

of what i was

and what i

should be.

i am the walking dead,

atrocity embodied

of what can happen

when

apathy

goes

unchecked.