Don't let the crayon coated pictures on the walls fool you,
this is a battlefield.

These cracked tiles are martyrs of a half-way love,
the structure of our home build on promises made with heavy tongues.
Mouths too full of bitterness to taste anything anymore

The floodboards weep for the long dead,
the hollow hearts  and peeling paint.

Bitter words are bullet wounds,
we are proof that the dead can walk,
each skinned disguise masks a hungry soul.

**Untrusting and unforgiving.