TIRED

I woke up this morning fast asleep,
and dragged my corpse out of bed.
It’s too cold in Hell and I’m too tired.
Every mirror I see you in you always look shattered.

On the wet crumbling streets
insipid zombies push brooms around empty boxes.
I step to you, you step to me,
please leave me alone, I’m too tired.

I’m too tired of this mourning,
I just want comfort and a place to stay.
I want to sleep until the grass grows and towers over me,
and stay alone in the undergrowth a mile in all direction.