See how far I've come?

Specific lines from this story have been taken from the poem "heaven, in a way" by Rodney Hall. Here is the original poem: www.poetrylibrary.edu.au/poets…
Just a heads up, this story is non-linear but the numbers I put at the beginning of each paragraph indicate the order of which the things happen.

5.
From my new world I'm waving. See how far I've come? I am walking through my house. Memories of fantastic moments flood through my head. I walk up to my daughter's room. Pink everywhere. Beautiful, colourful pink! The pink leaves a stain on my eyes. It smells like lavender and lollies. My daughter screams so beautifully. A kaleidoscope of colours, smells, sounds, feelings. I walk to my daughter. She has huddled into a corner. If only she could feel how I am feeling now. My angelic, delicate daughter! She screams "Daddy, no!" It is okay, my daughter. I am here to claim you. Her pretty dress is stained with poignant blood. I smell her and I feel her alive and I see her fair flesh. Her beautiful pale skin. She screams again "Daddy, stop!" It is okay, my daughter. I suppose it's heaven, in a way. And I am waving down at you. I grab her hair. Her fine, soft hair and I pull her closer to me. She is here with me now. She cries. It is okay, my daughter, everything will be fine and beautiful soon. And the colours here lie warm against your eye: film upon film of unforgotten pleasure. I pull her neck close to me and I bite. Her skins pulls apart and snaps back to her neck. She tastes more divine than anything else in the world. I feel a little bit of her within me. A small voice, telling me things so quietly I can't hear them. I bite her again, on her shoulder. The voice gets louder. It's her voice. She is happy inside me, I can feel it.

3.
I pull the trigger. She falls flat on the ground. I killed my wife. It had to be done. She was going to eat my daughter. I killed my wife. My daughter clings to my leg. She looks into my eyes. A tear runs down her face. I tell her I'm sorry. She understands. I kiss her on her forehead. I leave a blood lipstick kiss on her forehead. I wipe it off. We walk over to my wife. Her mother. I see you – a grubby speck beneath me, and it's all your own damn fault. Flesh has been torn off her arm. That's where the thing bit her. She has a gun tucked into her jeans. Didn't save her. We lasted for two months. Now it's just me and my daughter. I wonder how much longer we'll last together.

6.
The more I eat, the more of her is within me. The more I eat, the more of her is me. I ask her how she feels being inside me. She tells me she loves it. I tell her I love her being within me. She tells me to go and find more people to claim. I know where to find them. We walk out into the street. My daughter thinks there are probably more people at the church. As we are walking, we see a man. From my new world I'm waving. See how far I've come? He doesn't seem to notice us. We run over to him. He doesn't hear us. I breathe in through my nose; I smell him. You don't know what you're missing. Delicate smells, bright and dainty inflame my mind. I leap and bite man on his arm. Piquant tastes flood my mouth. The man screams and the hairs on my neck stand up. It's almost all too much. He scream and I feed on him: I eat his face. I suck out his eyes. I tare off his ears. I can feel him within me. He talks to me within me and he talks to my daughter and he is still screaming. I bite his neck and tare something out – he stops screaming.

2.
I wake. I hold my daughter and wife. Here we sleep, the church. A safe haven. Here you rest in relief and wake to find the ghost of a multi-coloured saint or two in bed beside you. There must be twenty, thirty people sleeping here alongside me. I stand up, and see a man kneeling by a cross. He's
whispering to himself. I think God left here a long time ago. But he thinks that God's going to help him. I never believed in God, and this happening solidified it. Then again, I never believed the dead would walk the earth.

4.
I'm running back to the church. My daughter holds my hand. I see them running up behind us. One looks me in the eye. I feel sorry for it, but it takes none of my sympathy. One is faster than the others. It catches up to us. It grabs my foot. I fall. I tell my daughter to run home. She runs off. It bites my leg and I scream. I kick it off and smash it's head in with the hammer. I stumble off into a corner and sit. When I look around the corner, I see all the zombies have gone off to the church. Good decision sending my daughter to our house. I feel the pain coming up my leg. I scream and I cry. I don't want to die. Then it hits me. I feel perfectly fine. I feel as light as a feather. Here it's perfectly all right to turn however many somersaults you like on all the roofs of town.

1.
This apocalypse is somewhat a miracle for me. I was a man buried in debt; my grandchildren wouldn't have seen the end of it. But now, everything's gone. Money, banks, jobs, cars, corporations, all gone. My family nearly went homeless. Here, you can take any car, eat any food and as long as someone else doesn't want it, that's all right. If anyone should care to live in Gothic or in Romanesque cathedrals that's all right too: you spread your palliasse along the altar or in the nave. I love it here. Here, we're worshipers of education by experience; with only one life of heartbreak still to go before we accept ourselves, each as one of you.

7.
Watch me exploit the magic of my somersaulting powers. Up here, it's no use being envious; nothing but a life of heartbreak can gain you entry to this place. We stumble to the church. Here the fish are naturally disguised with scales that read as Hebrew letters. A small child runs off – we run after her. I want to eat her – she will taste like my daughter, my delectable daughter. I catch her: The smells of every intimate remembrance play your mind on their hook and line, until you do achieve a state of re-experience. Everyone that I eat sleep in happiness within me and wake to find the morning sun shattered to a flower of jewelled glass – my body is a better place than anywhere else. Ha ha! I hope you hate it where you are. From my new world I'm waving. See how far I've come?