We are the flowers,
Buried,                                  
In a garden,                                              
Of emptiness.

As much as I miss you, dear,
I cannot keep watering dead flowers,
Not even an IV can save them now.
Why I'm still trying is unclear,
But I've been giving CPR for hours,
Trying to save this somehow.

I cannot keep watering dead flowers.
I cannot keep tangling with powers
Way beyond my ken.
I cannot keep hoping for more.
I cannot keep fighting this war
And losing all over again.

A distant look in her eyes,
Stretching beyond the horizon.
A battle long fought,
In her dreams so surreal.
A thousand miles did she walk,
Before pausing to rest.
But the lights began to fade,
For it was time for her sunset.

Sleep.
Sleep child,
til' the light overpowers the darkness inside,
where I secretly cried.
I secretly tried,
but no one would guess,
and I never put my cards face up.
You'll just tell me to shut up.
The things I used to patch up,
the cut and scratch up,
caused by the dull
of my pencil,
and my soul.
I fell,
but I dragged myself up again,
back into my daily skin,
and I'm that burden.
That one whose not fully there,
told by everyone, "you just don't care",
with a random shudder scare.
The words I despise you all think,
even the shrink,
and it drowns me to the sink.
I'm that disaster,
everyone's after,
maniacal laughter.
"Am I losing my mind?"
"Is this mind really mine?"
"Would dying be fine?"
I'm not so refined
I can see the things in perfect imagery,
things I don't want to see,
always worried everyone hates me.
I can see,
I'm not me,
I'm not even a somebody.
Maybe inside is some other ghost,
I'm the host,
at my death let's just have a toast.
Til' death do we part,
take it as a new start,
buy the roses to my grave from walmart.
I didn't think I mattered anyways,
sleeping through these pass-me-by days,
my mind playing simon says.
I always secretly try,
but I am still I,
and now simon says ".....goodbye."

when I perish,
pray embers of burning fireflies
harvest me into organic soil,
plead for my soul to swim to clouds of wool,
dwell in the sky like dead stars.

when I perish,
hide far from that uncontrollable sickness of despair
that will strive to chase you.
waltz there, on the fragmented earth belonging to me,
waltz as if there's an unheard beat of elegant melodies,
soaring through you.

when I perish,
keep the fear at bay,
and the hope where you can reach it.
For I am not remote,
I am just away,
inhaling royal tides of bloodless seas.

when I perish,
think of me and try to dream.

i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents