It's unhealthy, the amount I think of you.
I don't plan to pursue you.
I don't want to meet you--
at least, not for a decent amount of time.

I just want to figure you out,
to witness your creations, as dark as the desire may be.
I want to feel a corpse and understand
exactly what it is you've done to make it one.

It's not just a heartbeat that's missing;
the inhale-exhale rhythm of breath is not the only thing that has ceased.
A living body is much more than blood pumping,
or converting oxygen into carbon dioxide--

but I can't decide what makes it truly alive.
What makes a person truly alive?
Do you even know? Could you tell me?
And if so, am I, too, truly alive?