Grave

I often visit the graves

of the people I used to be.

It doesn't help

when he reminds me constantly

of who I was previously.

My body count was two.

I was clumsy this time around,

slipped the knife on you.

You lie there underground,

your soul is colder now.

I can't raise you from the dead,

they'll say I'm messing with your head.

I swear, it wasn't my intention

to keep you from a chance at redemption.

You can pull through the dirt,

you can push through the hurt,

let your bleeding hands rise above the Earth.

Get up in your feet

and dust off the defeat.

Be a better person than me.

A grave with two headstones,

your name written in bold.

I'm the person your ghost

will forever call home.