I am no longer here
or at least
it feels like it.

Sitting here
in the land of the dead
is too overwhelming.

Spiraling
down, down, down
but I'm still intact.
How? Why?

I'm immobile
like the intricate patchwork
below me
dead;
just like the cruel substance
that I'm made of.

All the gravestones are scoffing,
mocking the only emotion
that i am capable of;
GRIEF.

Mourn I must;
that the woman
who gave birth to my father
the only anchor I had
that still remained
is dead.

The gravestones chant,
in a language that I can understand,
"All must die.
Mourn no longer
than necessary.
Forget the dead.
PITY THE LIVING."

They are right.
But I will mourn
my deceased anchor
for a while longer;
otherwise, numbness
will take over my horizons
and there is no going back
from there.

So I bury the dead
but before I leave,
I do not forget
to dig my own grave,
for the time is inevitable
before Grief hands me over
to the unforgiving hands of Numbness
and I join those gravestones.

Blossoms growing
in earnest spring.
Leaves in meadows,
winds that sing.
Birds call out
with tranquil breath
as I lie still
in flowers of death.
In sunbathed glory,
creatures bask.
And I with them
without my mask.

The only place
where I can go,
be understood
for what I know
is here,
the place of broken dreams.
The graveyard
where you once met me.
You saw without
society's
disguise for ones
like you and me.
But you grew up
deprived of truth,
the one I found
while in my youth.

I handed you
a flower and smiled.
You said,
"Beautiful as always, child."
But you still couldn't
understand
why I stayed in
forsaken land.
You went your way
and I went mine.
You couldn't see
beauty divine.
You still cry every time
you come.
You know nothing
of what I've done.

There's nothing here,
so pass on by.
Ignore my life
until I die,
and then you'll say
those lies and thoughts.
"I loved you."
Yet, here I will rot
until that fateful
day draws near,
and you come home
to greet me here.
The people come
and speak their minds.
"You meant so much."
"You were so kind."

They talk from their
experience.
Wait some time
and forget your death.
The sadness you have
won't subside
from your regrets
before you died.
Feel the emptiness
fill your bones.
Then I will sit
by your gravestone
and say to you
the truth I know.
"I'm dead inside,
like you below."

The juices you know you’re sipping
The mango peach goodness
******* these fruits
Tasting their sweetness
Drinking the sugars
Drowning in the flavoring

Yellow in the cup
Yellow in the eyes
Enjoying the dancing
Reaping the benefits of your fruit
Slipping in extra flavor to drown in it

Make a man go crazy over a peachy princess
But the juice in the golden holy grail
Is the truth of planting seeds in the soil
A fruitful soul can grow
But keeping the poison will put you below