stop romanticizing death.
the sick image of me
laying on my grave
as you sit beside
shaking with unspoken words
of lost love.

old and new times come together
pretending that we are so easy
to recreate.

10 minutes away
tomorrow I am leaving
so why at my feet now,
all the emotions
that I don't want to step into
cover me in mud.

smoke blinds the past
time after time.

when is this night gonna end.