“People talk about trying to forget about someone
how they try to desperately but how do you forget someone
you always talk about.
when trying to forget, you do just that.
You block, shove, break any memory of them.
Turning them into a disposable thought,
a ghost of the person you once were.
They died the same day they walked away.
They’re dead. Let them be dead.
There is no use in calling the dead
when only the dirt will ring
Bury their remains along side them.
Freeze then shatter so they melt quickly
some place away from yourself.
Killing people is only wrong when you actually
hold their neck in your hands, pressing hard,
as you swear you love them, then look at what you did.
Killing people is only wrong when you walk away
from their body and leave others to wonder whatever happened
to your wife.
But killing people in your mind is quiet. No one truly suffers.
You can kill anyone you want, you are your own psychopath
quietly making plans of how, where, and when
the thing about murder is that
it creeps up on you until you’re surrounded by it’s urge and you find yourself
“stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it”
but it’s too late because your hands already let go of their neck and there is
no going back
because the dead don’t come back
they won’t linger, they wanted to leave
it’s the people that will bring them, dragging them inside their minds
begging for forgiveness
when all they had to do is forget.”
A White Bird in a Blizzard