My eyes upon her beautiful, breathless silence.   Whilst she sleeps forever, I whisper to her in prayer.   Hoping she’ll come back, I know that’ll never be.   I consider setting foot into the grave to find her.

With cold dead hands, a ghost I am to you alone now.   With cold dead hands that are unseen, unfelt, and unanticipated.   With cold dead hands, my visits are unknown to you making you shiver, and lips embalmed in ice.   With cold dead hands, I will call...

This body! A living, breathing corpse! May my home become my tomb. Have I been entombed alive all this time? Buried with windows of sunlight, Looking out over the trimmed grass of my grave. Where the name on my mailbox is a...