In a way, I'm glad we never got to say goodbye.
I'll speak my peace at the funeral after
tears have run dry.
And I'll mark every anniversary but
I won't let this torture me inside.

This is the most calm I've been since we parted.
Has it been a second or a century?
Bleary eyes and course cries echo in eternity.

Remorse? You're kidding!
I'm glad to be rid of you.
Do you hear me? I'm pounding on the coffin lid,
I'm glad that we're through!

Desperate and desolate,
invalid and intrepid.
I guess the truth is that we never fit.

Can you believe it ended this way?
Faith: a black blade to the heart.
Did you taste the poison of what you couldn't say?
Sorrow: a nose soaked with the stench..
of your perfume.

Is it relief or damnation?
Laid to rest,
this finality is refreshing.
Never again to be tortured with future prospects.