from the book of a dying patient
from the words of a deceased soul
from the thoughts of a dead brain
i used to think life was better when i was alive
maybe it's an obvious fact
but i could still move freely
i could still speak freely, dream freely
i could still think coherently
but now i am useless
rotted to the bone
the maggots are invaded my flesh
and the knife has carved out my insides
the insects have made a home out of my dying self
my guts have spilled out
scattered on the floor like my incessant thoughts
like a sacred offering in an act of desperation
to reverse the wheel of fate, and grant me more days
but alas it proved useless in the end,
just like my existence
a little something to remember me by
i'm sorry for existing
for taking up space from others
but you no longer have to worry about dead weight
for now, i am a dead, back space.
it's endless, unwelcoming, and deathly cold-
blank, eternal death.

i'm sorry for being so unlovable
for being born imperfect
for being daring enough to be born
i'm sorry for everything i've done
for stealing so many breaths from the world
i don't deserve any of your forgiveness
even if i pray to the savior for mercy
i don't believe i deserve any of it.
i think i'm losing my talent
my attention, my meaning
i can't write, or write my rights
i can't tell from right, and right
i don't understand the words you are deciphering
the words you are interpreting feel foreign
my breaths start to feel stolen again
my thoughts start to feel useless again
i can't understand you
i can't understand you
help me
help me see the truth
please.
isn't that enough?

they told me
you'll understand once you're older
and then you left me, lonely
to rot alone, to toil alone
when all i dreamed of was to hold your hand
and maybe be more than a friend
could i ever hope to be more?

maybe not.
maybe this is all a false revelation,
a mistaken confession
maybe it's just another unhealthy obsession.

i can't tell,
from right and wrong
from love and hate
from you and i,
to you, truly,
whom i used to love,
i'm sorry you can't love me.

i close my eyes
endure my suffering
put away the negative thoughts
and keep thinking happy

i live in my delusion
of dreams and hopes
none i can ever hope to fulfil
i continue sleeping

i turn a blind eye
to the pain around me
failing to understand
the truth of the world

i must wake up
take a step forward
open my mind to the future
and stop living in the past

i need to move on
if i refuse to do so,
i will never learn to let go
and be free.

oh dear...
i think there's some fog in my brain,
it's filling up with fear
i'm drowning in the rain,
dripping with tears
nothing really feels clear.

seeing their face,
looking at me with disdain
knowing this is something,
something that i can't ever hope to mend.
i can't pretend that-
i don't feel the insufferable pain
of losing my only friend.

so i look at the bottom of the barrel,
take a swig of my beer
realising that things will never be the same
seeing that it's the end of my years,
thinking how i miss being here,
how i'll miss calling your name.

even if i devote my whole life to a sorry
it will never be enough
to replace the aching hole in my heart
i can never be enough, can i?
i can't fill in your shoes
no matter how hard i try
it will never be enough,
maybe if i tried.
but i'm tired of trying
of giving, of losing
i'm tired of everything. trying.
what's the point?
i'm not enough. i never am.

how can i explain this feeling?
i'm suffocating in the guilt
the burden of knowing
the burden of thinking
of what could have been
i'm sorry for everything
but a thousand apologies can't bring you back.