And so I will waste myself away over time
so slow, you’ll never even know.
Not until you come breaking down my door
because you finally realized how long it had been
since you last heard from me.
There you will find me
peacefully upon the bed
a sad little puddle of mud,
built from the dust I faded into
watered by the tears that I never let you see.
I’m not sorry.
And I’m not afraid.