It’s your tears that keep the flowers

near my grave alive.

A new one is born each time you cry.

I envy all your _no’s_ and _why’s_.

I envy the dead bird that flies.

Please stop grieving me.

I did not die for your sympathy.

Allow me to be dead for once—

finally.

Did you know there are numbers

after three?

I thought nothing existed past

what I couldn’t see.

I thought that when God willed it,

it could never leave.

He silences the winds

and calls for peace.

So what is this thumping in my chest,

this sound each time I breathe?

I am in my coffin,

yet I still feel like I’m

drowning in all seven seas.

I am gone,

so will you _please_

stop grieving me?

Stop crying my grave

back into color.

Stop saying this is all,

because there is always more.

And I’ll be back—

in a million tears or so.

I’ll come back from the dead,

and my hands will surely glow.

I’ll be back.

I swear I will.

But for now, while I’ve still got

time to kill…

there are empty holes

in the earth

that need to be filled.