Every Corpse.

Tear drops in my ears
as I lay in my bed,
and nothing can soothe
the ache in my head.

Every mistake presents itself
on my ceiling.
I watch it like a vintage film,
constantly reeling.

I can not edit the footage from here.

It's easy to see, for I am caught red handed.
The villan is me, the red eyed bandit.

I raid the very closets of modesty.
And honestly, who is left to survive?
I've buried the dead,
I've killed the alive.

Then I dance on the gravces,
even my own.
No one is saved,
and no one goes home.

I haunt every skeleton and corpse.