A Funeral In My Heart

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Loneliness is having a party
in my mind again and that’s okay.

 
I am surrounded 
by souls.

 
Some treat me like
sunlight and some treat me like
moonlight.

 
I cry myself to sleep
and no one knows that the truth
about loneliness is that it protects
ones heart from everything but itself.

 
There’s a funeral in my heart, 
and the casket is too small for my
childish soul that screams ‘Let me out!’

 
I want to live without thinking
about who will miss me when I’m gone
because I’m tired of writing all these goodbye
letters that mean nothing without a recipient.

 
There’s a funeral in my heart
and there are no flowers because 
nobody wants to give flowers to a suicide.

 
I wish I can say sorry for being 
so selfish but that would mean apologizing
for the nights I’ve tried to hold it all together
like rebuilding Rome for a day—I have nothing to say.

 
There’s a funeral in my heart
and I am all alone here with the lights closed
because the window might glow and I am not light.

 
I am not light.

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