Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Lay vacant in the dirt, keep licking your wounds
Tear off meat from the corpses, feed off the 'what ifs'
Waste away with ghosts of what could've been
Let yourself disintegrate along with a future that never came to be

Or

Pick yourself up. Directly apply anesthetic on the flesh. Ready the tourniquet.
Brush off the dirt. Walk through the graves.
The dead cannot be offended.
Cross over tomb stones
Step on the flowers.
The dead cannot be offended.
Leave the prayer beads
Leave the dampness of your cheeks
Leave the begging and the screaming
The dead cannot hear your prayers
The dead cannot wipe your tears
The dead cannot comfort
The dead cannot be offended


Do not dig up graves
They are dead
Leave them to rot

Walk out. All the way out.
Leave the dead where they are meant to be, and let life in.
Paint the walls black
The start of a joyous poem
She left me, oh and I cried
Waiting for her guilt trip to arrive
It never did.
So I started screaming in vain
She belonged to me so I thought
As if she was a piece of baggage
Her place in my heart
A territory that has vanished
Her place in a brothel
Better of than with me
I still can't believe that ***** left me.

— The End —