every so often i slip back into the belief that i am dead
that i am a corpse in a box under the ground
where i should be able to see the bones exposed
but yet i still see flesh
even if i hear sounds and see sights that no dead person could see
i still believe it's my rotting brain's last breath
sometimes i think i can feel the dirt and mud and worms seeping into my casket
as it decays with my dying body
sometimes i put my hand over my heart and feel no heartbeat
i check again and again and again
reaching for the hand of reality
to take me out of the grave i dug
sometimes i feel the flowers being placed on my burial site
by hands of the gentle people who only wanted the best for me
and watched me writhe and suffer
sometimes i feel like i failed
i had so much potential
but sometimes, just sometimes
i feel at peace, calm
with being deceased