When I'm dead,
Speak of me in present tense.
You can't forget me,
For I left a mark,
I left my scar.
I'll walk to my grave,
Even in this mind numbing pain.
You can't hate me, yet.
I'm trying my best,
But you'll never understand.
It kills the dead that the only scar I left is on her,
It's all she has now,
Me, with my eyes always closed.
"Funerals are for the living," She said,
Weeping on my grave.
A desert blessing, an ocean curse,
She'll never forget me first.
The risen sun too bright in her losing eyes,
I left a mark,
But I left the worst,
I left my scar.
