A Letter from the Dead;

I’m mine forever and always, but you can always have whatever piece of me you want

Empty your sadness into a bathtub of tears, warm from your burning fears

Face your fears in the fire of your soul and you’ll see what you want

Take a stand to yourself and you’ll see I’m it

I want you to grow but you’re not budding

You won’t budge on your resentments; they’re not fact anymore

Stop hating mistakes I’ve apologized for

Can’t you see I’m budding, a beautiful flower

Growing in a garden I hope you’ll visit, reminiscent of memories in the forest

Heat pouring from the sky and then your hands when the moon rises

But you’d rather let the garden die than walk a rough road to it

But maybe we’re just on different paths, close enough to hold hands and believe we’re going to the same place

At least for now our roads depart, maybe you’ll figure out which path you want to be on

I really think you want to walk with me, but you’re afraid of the darkness over here

I can handle it, I guess you never could, but you should

Walk in my garden with me and you’ll find the peace you want

Run away and you’ll always be running from the darkness behind your footsteps