colour the walls red.
sparkling.jarring.
bloodcurdling red.
and on them
put up pictures.
of dead loved ones.
in white frames.
you are likely
to run out of pictures.
i vaguely remember
photographic bonfires
on birthdays and anniversaries.
there is a stack of newspapers.
old.new.bought.borrowed.
you will find
a pair of scissors
in the drawer next to the bed.
dont mind the pills.
cut out obituaries
and use them.
for the bedroom walls.
maybe then
they wont call me crazy
when i say
strange dead people
watch me
in my sleep.
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