This town is filled with strays

Many die while others thrive

No one likes the survivors.

Angry, anxious, and violent

running away when they can

swiping when they can't.

Ugly, scarred, and horrible

A facade that's kept them alive

Has become part of a now foreign mind.

My heart beats with theirs

I run as they do, and push away

Anything that might help or harm me.

I watch one have a moment's peace

Which is familiar and rare enough to me

to know it will not last for long.

These moments are precious, though

Enjoyed not by the dead

But the survivors.