I have to say this,
you have infected me. As much as a
zombie might be forever infected – lurking around
as the walking dead.
He preys on flesh and blood to keep
his lifeless imprisonment, just as I prey
on you to get you to notice
I tell you little, in words, but everything in touch! My fingertips
swell at the thought of reaching out
to you. I’ll meet you anywhere, at any moment,
I crave your attention.
I am not the walking dead. My blood pumps
and boils at a thought…you are the flesh
and blood that I scavage
the Earth for; the infection that
thrives me into every step I take.