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I am sick of losing friends.
Seeing them fall to a deluded fantasy-
The drugs do not work to cleanse.
I will not forgive your blasphemy.
Your body is a fucking temple,
So why are you trying to destroy it?
I can not make you reassemble
From broken parts at the bottom of a pit.
Depression is a fucking bitch,
So I don’t know why you still hang with her.
I don’t know why you want to be found in a ditch,
I don’t know why you want your mother to be a connoisseur
Of burying her god damn daughter.
Get your shit together.
I am sick of losing family.
I don’t want to speak to another preacher,
I am left to clean up the remnants of tragedy.
I didn’t want your death as a teacher,
Yet I refuse to believe your death meant nothing.
I hate speaking about myself, but I am what is left.
I am what is left, to show that I am not bluffing
When I tell the world of the greatest theft.
The world, losing you, was a fucking crime.
I am forced to bore witness to what is lost.
You were taken, far before your time,
And it is us left who pay the cost.
I can’t bear to lose your grace, so please
Get your life together.
I am sick of losing myself.
I want to believe I am doing better,
But I can’t just leave you on the shelf.
The meaning of a dead letter
Is that it can never be delivered.
I can never tell you what you meant,
Or that I can’t find my way out of this blizzard
Without your guidance to show where you went.
Your memory alone means we must carry on.
It is still snowing, but I find your memory to keep warm.
Perhaps it will melt away with the coming of dawn.
No matter, I will survive this storm,
I won’t stop pushing through,
And I’ll get myself together.
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- 1 year ago
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