I've lost two days somewhere, maybe down the drain.
where was I, whom with, what did i do?
I remember i kept dreaming of dead people.
They were sat up in the old bed where i used to lie on weekends when i was a kid.
They said stuff but not about life after death.
their eyes circled black and holding hands.
Dead people speak to me more than the alive ones.
maybe they said, don't worry.
Maybe they didn't.maybe they were just looking at me, so i won't forget what's coming.
My ghosts, vivid, sad, with huge black-rimmed eyes and a silence so huge it's like screaming.maybe that's how the dead scream; in silence.
Two fucking days.