You’re like a wound that never heals,
and this pain,
this pain has settled deep beneath my bones,
a permanent mark of my insignificance.

Even now that I’m dead,
I want more.
The weight of oblivion
upon my tombstone.
The silence that buries me
forever.

Like an ordeal of punishment,
I scream as loudly as the desperate,
and the sound comes out
bearing your name.

I split your mind open
with the sharpness of my devotion,
a hymn of supplication
powerful enough to break the wind.

When I lose my breath,
only silence will remain.

And then
you can finally rest.

If I grow quiet enough,
you’ll forget I’m suffering.

No more haunting your sleep.
My stripped-bare soul rests in the mausoleum, exhausted and free.

And for once, the ruin will be enough for me.