"Would it **** you to get to know them?"
Honestly?
Yes.
The disorganized, fumbling  army of we
Their shared, glazed  eyes
That look the same
The clothes that are all stitched together
So they stumble as one
Their one slackened mouth.
They speak as one.
When one gets too close it becomes contagious
A disease that spreads on their one breath
It spreads like mint scented wildfire.
It floods your soul and like acid
Dissolves what is there
To replace it with them
And what they pretend to be