Still

the dark that used to envelope me

now devours me instead.

as i lay on the funeral pyre

of a bed burning with memories and regrets...

i can almost feel you breathing next to me

you haunt this house

like you specterize my soul;

your velvet voice in echo,

your hand prints on the walls,

your clothes strewn on the floor

...the slamming of apathetic doors as you leave like you always intended

the paradox of tears?

They help you see more clearly.

And i can't say i like the truth

Forget the promise of an afterlife;

i just need an after-you.