Zombification

I have no clue when the End came

It seems like forever ago

Still, the World is the same

I stand in the middle of The Present

With turmoil brewing inside me

A shrewd chaos raging a storm

They smile

I mimic

They are ignorant

Or maybe purposely blinded themselves

To all the scars tainting my skin

Raw Pink doesn't blend into Ivory

Neither does the Blue or Green

I don't bother prying their fingers from their sockets

This illness is self-inflicted

Symptoms including rotting

Everywhere but the conscious

Somehow, fatigue is catching up 

Along with Rigor Mortis

Stuck with my limbs failing to gravity

While my brain is running through the files

Deleting one memory and another

Incurable

As another piece of me decays each day

I wonder again

If tomorrow is the day

I become a true Walking Undead

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I must confess ignorance regarding all things zombie, but I was impressed by the writing skills in this one. The wording is clear and uncluttered, the pacing and unity both tight. The imagery is sharp and the knowledge of subject evident. After reading this work, I might even be able to recognize a zombie if one happened to occupy the bar stool next to me.