these tangles of life exhaust me
i have ran out of time

this cobweb of melancholy has
spread into my organs

isolation has stitched itself on my skin and refuses to leave me behind

no matter how much i cut the threads

loneliness is like a leech
that is flowing inside my bloodstream

it has sucked out every drop of emotion
leaving me numb and at the mercy of
a ghost that resides in me

i am leaving behind the traces of my existence for you to see
and then destroy

i never truly lived
my shadows shouldn't either

my selfish heart still hopes that you'll leave daisies under the tree we planted when we were kids

but a part of me wishes for you to have forgotten that already

i do not wish to remain in your memories

i hope to get rid of all things
that make me
me

and sadly you're one of them

the pages i wrote in about the time
i held a baby for the first time
and fell in love
lie crumbled in the trash
where they belong

the ashes of all of the flesh i burnt
flew away a long time ago

but if you were to look carefully
you'll still find the black holes
the dying flames left
on the stained bedsheets

my stench is locked up in the air
and refuses to drift but i think
one strong wind is all it will take

the white tiles even though scrubbed are still tainted with red
from the time i slit my wrists
but that could just be another
trick of my mind

this house reminds me of all the things
i could have been but didn't get to be

every day i spent in here
has made me weak from within

the very air that i breathe is pungent and reeks of all the memories
i have unfortunately lived
and relived over and over again

there is so much
so very much
i could have said
could have seen
could have felt differently
or maybe even for the first time

but i am tired

there is so much i wanted to give
but a souvenir of my sadness
is all i can offer now
before i go to sleep
one last time

— letters from the dead