She Is Dead

I sort of miss the days when we kicked it

Now you don’t even call my name, I’m stressed

The memories of right and wrong, love making you repressed

The girl you knew a thousand years ago is dead

Shit, she’s died a thousand times since that day

Shit, she died a few days ago

And when she finishes this poem, she’ll be dead again

The Joy of her rebirth inspires me daily

You used to do the same

Barking bout a love you think you’d die for, a heart you never claimed

My chest hurts, my wine glass is empty

And my phone rings, but I’m pretty sure I’m already dead