days seem endless,
and i, bound,
chained to oblivion,
do not see a future
in the beyond.

my fingers, as stout
as they are, are the first
to dissipate slowly
into nothingness.
i have given
everything to
not make it so—
yet a man left
to perish can only do
what a dead one
is ever allowed to.

i love you,
and although love
is but a word riddled with
fantasies, lies, and heartache,
i surrender to the idea
that i am yours,
and yours alone.

i wonder,
will my bits and pieces
remain in your memory
after all of this?
will a part of me
stay humming,
breathing,
in your own little world?

when everything is gone
and i have faded,
will my words,
pretentious as they appear,
still ring true to your ears?

will you forget me
in the vastness
of the void,
in the grand
scheme of things?

i believe so.

but darling, it is not
your fault.

it never will be.