Vultures

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Hannah Mosqueda

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I had a dream last night
We were all convened at a church to meet and greet and atone for all our crimes
We looked upon each other, found no truths, no resolution
Wearing the faces of our youth, every blink was a tactic, every breath a war
I have grown too tired for these petty pointless games
But they are always playing with the same worn deck of cards
Even in my dreams, we are not friends, we are vultures
We picked through the remains of a million conversations
Reciting our dead memories, regurgitating dialog
We fed upon each other and found no peace, no satisfaction
Sharpening beaks upon the pews, every offer a tactic, every truce a war
I have grown too tired for these petty pointless games
But they are always playing with same worn deck of cards
Even in my dreams we are not friends, we are vultures
I have grown too tired, we are not friends, we are vultures

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