Im not really dead yet.
My chest rises and falls.
The breath escapes from my lungs, the air curls into ghosts of you.
Empty I loves as icy as your heart.
I won't be planning a funeral.
Doctors won't be pulling a sheet over my head.
There is life between my rib cage, it beats soft like a cats swishing tail.
There is life here, im apathetically not dead.
There is life here but not like with you.
Memories are haunting, like craving for water alone in the desert.
There is no LIFE here, only the stillness you left.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
Im not really dead yet.
My chest rises and falls.
The breath escapes from my lungs, the air curls into ghosts of you.
Empty I loves as icy as your heart.
I won't be planning a funeral.
Doctors won't be pulling a sheet over my head.
There is life between my rib cage, it beats soft like a cats swishing tail.
There is life here, im apathetically not dead.
There is life here but not like with you.
Memories are haunting, like craving for water alone in the desert.
There is no LIFE here, only the stillness you left.
