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What is it like loving a dead man?
Dreaming in your sleep.
Keeping up appearances
With blood stains on your feet.

Dabbling witchcraft with the past,
Fucking up your future,
Lying in a vat of booze
Fumbling with the sutures.

Has it only been a year?
Or 2, or 3, or 10?
What’s the difference, any way? –
I’ll wear you on my skin.

Bruises on my pillows
Bleeding at the veins,
Thrashing at a terror
Who won’t dare to speak your name.

It’s a devastating feeling
Falling outside of the glass 
You hit the ground,
A heavy sound,
Landing on your ass.

Killing buzzes,
Losing funds,
Mopping up your liquor.
Chasers taking pleasant treads
Into the sink to bicker.

What once was now
Is now alone
Inside my skull to mend.

What is it like loving a dead man?

Losing my best friend. 

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