The Walls Are Splattered With Blood

The walls are splattered with blood.
My blood
my husband’s blood
too much blood spilled tonight.
Grey ghosts we call them, or
White walkers
New arrivals, pale, nearly invisible, 
evil

A gentle snore,
maybe human or canine
Not loud enough to keep me awake
I begin to dose off
Nervous system spiked alert
by the spine chilling zzzz in my ear
Smack, smack 
with a back hand whack onto the pillow

Too awake now, 
I read
begin to relax again
My glasses hurt my face as I smack myself in the head
That’s it!
Switch on the light, slipper in hand
Whack, whack
Fresh blood on the walls
Die grey ghosts, 
die