As I lay here on the floor
Of the school cafeteria,
Every heartbeat is like a gunshot.
I listen to the whispers
Of men and women decked in yellow gear
Above my head,
Barely audible above
The growls of helicopters
Prowling in the red haze,
Their lights flashing momentarily
Through the windows,
Illuminating the sleeping bodies around me,
Like that of a warzone.
I draw a scraping breath,
Barely filtered by the mask
Tight over my nose and mouth,
The scent of destruction
Filling my chest and
Churning in my stomach.
qwe