Thinking of You, While I Decay

I tend to wonder how long I’ve been here Stuck below in the darkness, still I lay I hear your footsteps above, with no ear It seems I am in a state of decay Not doing much else, but rotting away Thinking of you, in your skin and your hair What it must be like, to be back up there Flesh holding in your muscle and sinew I remain in a state of disrepair Glad it was me, when it could have been you Feb 14, 2022