Ghosttown

on a summmer afternoon i have died and lay here
rotting in the damp air
sickly sweet
like a watermelon split apart on the vine
cracked open and the flies cover me.
blood and sugar
seeps into the wooden floorboards
and stains them black, pools
under this sick house and sinks into the ground.
summer turns into autumn and the dead leaves
gather by the door
its screen torn and wood splitting it
hangs off rusted hinges and throws itself against the wall.
the flies have come and gone.
choking vines have come and gone.
the little things that crawl
and eat my eyes and lips and tongue
have moved on.
outside a storm is caving in
the roof and dropping sweetgum balls inside
i feel the days and decades passing
but my rotted bones remain.