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Zombies

Decrepit Things

By Zana Published 2 months ago 1 min read
Zombies
Photo by benjamin lehman on Unsplash

Baby, we were doomed from the start.

A head on car crash.

No brakes to stop the inevitable.

No tread left on the tires, going a 100 miles per hour down a dead end street. Nightmares and sweet dreams colliding.

No parachute.

No safety net.

You had cut the strings.

If you die, I go with you.

Irrevocable choices.

Permanent consequences.

Cruel, precarious fate.

The keys were never mine but always yours. Scythe or blow?

It’s too late. You’re already a corpse. Dead on the inside.

Zombie.

Free Versesad poetrysurreal poetry

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Zana

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    Written by Zana