twenty-three years
it was placed in a box
dead for you
dead like you
flatlined from any more pain
you left without a scar
as your zombie still chased me
biting
grabbing for me
I barely stay ahead
how dark were those days
where you could not see me
your vision obscured by the disease
your heart blackened by the rot
your eyes staring into some void
like our blood was no longer the same
that smell still comes back to this day
when I’m hungry for memories
some of them are spoiled
no good anymore
they make me sick
like the day I became infected
by you… by that living death