Eulogy
I'm telling you some truths right now -
In the midnight at 2am, I close my eyelids and couldn't sleep.
I miss the boy I used to dream about -
he held my hand and played hide and seek
with me.
I miss the song I once heard in my dream
It's about a girl who died when she was swimming in her mind.
She was young and beautiful
and kind and fragile.
She sat on the garden grass
reading a poem to someone she has not met.
I said to her I sang to her I prayed to her -
You shall not be saved. You shall not be saved. You shall not be saved.
God is a metaphor. You drowned yourself in His words.
Will he ever come back?
I miss the day when I was eight,
I hid under the table from my parents or anyone.
They brought me two birthday cakes and I hated both of them.
My best friend didn't want to come over to my party.
I hated her. I hated her. I hated her.
She will never come back
into my life again.
So the fire of my early youth has been put out.
No one can rekindle it I know for sure.
I used to harbor a hatred towards anyone
who would dare to step into my enclosure.
They stood outside the glass windows,
trying to knock on the invisible panes.
They can go die. I cursed them.
I cursed them as I cursed myself.
I cursed myself for everything. I curse myself for everything I am, I have and I do.
My hatred died as I grew older.
My hatred died but it's turned against my self.
I lie on my bed and watch the night sky brighten up.
All the lights are flickering but my heart is deep sunken into my pelvis.
I lied, I lied, I lied.
I'm lying to everyone and I'm lying to myself.
For I am the real small one.
I am cursed by God and His hands.
I am buried under roses and crosses long ago.
For I am the real humble one.
I am dog shit and hell light and paper slits.
I am the under current of the life.
I am I am I am.
In the midnight at 2am, I close my eyelids and couldn't sleep.
I miss the boy I used to dream about -
he held my hand and played hide and seek
with me.
I miss the song I once heard in my dream
It's about a girl who died when she was swimming in her mind.
She was young and beautiful
and kind and fragile.
She sat on the garden grass
reading a poem to someone she has not met.
I said to her I sang to her I prayed to her -
You shall not be saved. You shall not be saved. You shall not be saved.
God is a metaphor. You drowned yourself in His words.
Will he ever come back?
I miss the day when I was eight,
I hid under the table from my parents or anyone.
They brought me two birthday cakes and I hated both of them.
My best friend didn't want to come over to my party.
I hated her. I hated her. I hated her.
She will never come back
into my life again.
So the fire of my early youth has been put out.
No one can rekindle it I know for sure.
I used to harbor a hatred towards anyone
who would dare to step into my enclosure.
They stood outside the glass windows,
trying to knock on the invisible panes.
They can go die. I cursed them.
I cursed them as I cursed myself.
I cursed myself for everything. I curse myself for everything I am, I have and I do.
My hatred died as I grew older.
My hatred died but it's turned against my self.
I lie on my bed and watch the night sky brighten up.
All the lights are flickering but my heart is deep sunken into my pelvis.
I lied, I lied, I lied.
I'm lying to everyone and I'm lying to myself.
For I am the real small one.
I am cursed by God and His hands.
I am buried under roses and crosses long ago.
For I am the real humble one.
I am dog shit and hell light and paper slits.
I am the under current of the life.
I am I am I am.
