Zombie Red

I see red I see red I see red

I see unaddressed anger and quiet resentment. It hurts that we can’t make lifts of bootstraps. It hurts that we can’t afford to feel human.

It hurts that smiles and laughter won’t pay the mortgage, that self-actualization doesn’t keep pink notices off our doors, and healing is some shit we only have the time to hear about on Grey’s Anatomy. Nah, we just gotta get this money.

It hurts that we can’t just fuck away the pain, smoke away the pain, eat away the pain. Eventually, addictions make way for more bills.

Nothing works Nothing works Nothing works

So we eat away at ourselves, flesh and boils red with rot. Rotting flesh we consume, Rotting flesh we become , The Walking Dead.

But we don’t want to be here anymore , And yet we don’t know where else to go, Without everybody having to know, Without everybody clamoring toward the same door out.

Is there even any more to lose? The rainbow was never enough. So, we took our chances on the streets.