I'm not gonna die.
Not tonight.
Though it seems I've cried enough tears to drown in them.
This body still swims.
I ask it not to,
but it doesn't listen.
I'm not gonna die tonight.
Or tomorrow either.
I didn't die from him.
And you won't kill me either.
Though I've always wished that someone would.
It's up to me I guess.
I'm not gonna die.
Not now that I want to.
So many ways to.
So many deaths that graves don't count.
So many corpses to fill the emptiness I've kept.
So many things that this life will never know how.
I never wanted to love you.
Or anyone.
But it seems that I did.
I never wanted to live,
but it just kept on happening.
Everything I've ever wanted never would let me have it.
And if that sounds self-serving you pass that same judgement after you've been me awhile.
I don't hate the world.
I don't hate anyone at all.
I don't think that I've been cheated.
I just think sometimes that some lives would've been better served in smaller portions.
That people die every day who want so much to live.
And here I sit,
still breathing while so many die in my place.
And I wish I could be them.
It's not just love.
It isn't just friends.
Though those sorts of things would be nice to have.
It's all about the nothing.
The nothing I've always been.
Is lightning wrong because it sets the ground aflame.
Is the ocean at fault if it drowns a few men in its waves.
Not everything is life.
Not everything is good.
It just is.
It just happens.
And those that wait for it pass are the only ones that know what happiness is.
Those that wait for it to pass are blessed.
And when it has,
whatever tragedy it was moves on to its next target.
And when it has you just hope that it never comes back.
That's what I am.
All I am is all I've ever been.
Shadow of alone occasionally crossing paths with.
All I am is all that I can ever be.
You and all of them.
You only made it so much more obvious.
The hope that I sought it turned on me like a frankestein's monster.
I tried to give it life,
but then it hated me for it.
Now it wants me dead.
And so do I.
Now it asks that I should suffer just as much as I've done to it.
I should've known better than to try to wake the dead.
Should have left those graves where they lay.
But that need to feel love just kept on calling to me.
Now I almost wish I'd never known how it feels.