Weight of Mimicry — Sam Spratt - Masks of Luci

Observation

The masks have fused to their faces. Their laughter echoes without meaning. And their hands grasp at anything that will dull the emptiness. But I still carry this hollow, lifeless weight. It was once real, once warm. My cerebrum whispers that it’s already gone, that I should cast it into the mud and join them. But if I do…then I surrender what little is left of me. So I cling to it, feeling the decay seep into my skin and my soul peel away.

EX:MAX