the moth

there is a thought 

fluttering 

like a moth 

around my head

a glimpse

out of the

corner

of my eye

I purposely

turn my head 

away

so I don't notice

I can't 

look

too closely

I don't 

want 

to see it

the moth 

is death

screaming 

at me

and if I don't 

look,

if I don't 

see it

I can ignore

the words

screaming 

in my head

Ben is dead.