Walking Dead

What if we're the dead ones and all those unmoving people dressed in beautiful dresses and suits locked in boxes and buried under cold dirt are the ones alive?  I don't feel anything inside. The heart beats irregularly.  I stop to gasp for air.  My brain keeps telling lies. They're all out to get me I have realized. Or, have I been tricked to despise?  I hate you everybody but only 'cause you all make me love you too much. Crazy's come knocking and I can't hide from her clutch.