The Nightmares Come While I'm Awake

Empty, why is it so empty?
*
Listen. Listen. You hear nothing. Try to say something in here. The grave is empty because it is open.
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She called to me until I reached here. Now I understand. These walls are the guest book for her wedding.
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No rot, no smell of embalming fluid, nothing to explain it. I have to go tell him, but I suspect he’ll read this and see it for himself first. You should leave.
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Where is the key?
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I’ve read the wall. There is nothing on it to fear or to learn. I examined the bodies. They are simply flesh, still as if sleeping, empty as a set of clothing placed in the closet. It is quiet, but why would it not be? I wish there was paper to set my notes upon.
*
Look at the messages in the brighter ink and neater writing. All the same. It is her, answering us.
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It is calm in here.
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I’d rather pass away among those here than die in the madness outside. I suggest you do the same.
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I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have touched her. There is no one left to deal with my body.
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The key must arrive.
*
It no longer seems like a morgue at all.