Something hidden that’s unpleasant to discover

You’re nothing
but rot, under
a flake-thin
veneer of dusty

smile — you’re
a desert searching
for an oasis,
decades of dark

mold crawling
under the floors
of the world. You
are less than, never

enough, hollow
waste of all this
space you occupy,
hoping you won’t

be found out,
your vulnerable
disguise like dead
dry leaves to flame.