The Other Reflection And Other Scary Shorts

A Poem From A Dead Place

I often think, instead of sleep,

of what we could have had.

Before you met a gruesome end

Oh, what we could have had.

Your image like a summer wind

Now sullied by the storm

For now you wander, dead inside,

Friends with only worms.

Your ivory skin

Rots from within,

Your hair has fallen out,

Your teeth like nails,

Your blue eyes pale,

My future full of doubt.

For how can one as such as I,

and one as such as you,

Learn to love each other,

When the zombies loved you too?