Surrounded by death.
this is when I feel most alive
not in a morbid way
rather the opposite
the whispers  of the dead
and the secrets they hold
inspire me to live
to gaze and wonder
to appreciate them
and myself
and others

I heed the messages they leave behind
warnings of their mistakes
the tales of love and hate
intended to go under with them
but the written word survives
words are the closest thing we have
to immortality

as I write these letters out I consider
not what they mean to me
but what they will mean  
to whom ever will be reading them
as they will out live me
a mere mortal of flesh and blood
they will be my mark
my body when I have none
the message that I leave behind

I don't know what is wrong with me,
I cant stop thinking about it though,
about my brain,
what could be,
what can never be,
what I wish I will be,
what I wish I wasn't,
when will it end?

The constant train of thought,
its unwanted but persistent,
sometimes it makes me want to die,
to curl up in to a ball and hide,
to drift away within myself,
forever,

I put in my earphones,
allow the music to wash over me,
let it drown me,
so I can control what I hear,
so I can’t think,
but in class when I'm all alone,
and everyone is watching me,
I can’t sit still,
I can’t stop the thoughts,
so I leave,
I must run away from the,
What ifs?
Whens?
Whys?

but I can't do that so I sit,
and I hide,
behind a smile so big,
and a laugh so loud,
its easier than the attention,
easier than the questions,
even if every time i do this,
I loose myself,
But I'm okay.