I read about zombies for so long today
that I started to forget what it means to be alive.
I have empathy for the living dead.
I walk among flesh eaters even after I put the book down —
and realize I, too, have been chasing the living,
looking for something alive to hold tight to.
I stripped the sheets off my bed today.
I covered my body in pillows and listened to all the little noises that create silences.
There is so much I hear but never listen to.
Brains——————-? life——————-? warmth—————————-?
They might go about it the wrong way, but I think zombies are looking for all the right things. At least they can say that they tried.