your pain is making me
paint achingly
stains on the wall above my bed
when you angrily
ashed in front of me
now I put ashed on my head
salt on the side of my bed
to keep out the walkers
all them around me are dead
so i just drown in my pillow
and pretend that it is your lap
and in the morning again
i run aimlessly across the land
lap after lap after lap