Do you ever feel my laying next to you?
Do you ever look deep down inside my eyes to the soul I used to have?
You never used to feel so cold. Even through your tattered dress, torn if frustration and desperation, you have become frigid.
It's December eighth. It has been two months since everything has ended. Only your surroundings have stayed the same. Your hands have weathered, your smile has faded, your eyes have rotten into something unworldly.
My mother says that I have to let you go, but I can't do that. I love you too much to let you go, even after we buried the girl we used to know. Even after how you've changed, I don't want to let you go. I love the way your corpse lies next to mine. I miss your warmth, but seeing your decaying smile helps me through each and every day.
I found someone that looked like you at work today. I followed her home and now she's with me. I love you baby, but she's so much warmer than you.
She screamed so loudly when I showed her your decaying bed and blue body. She was punished thoroughly for that.
I hope you don't mind if I bed her tonight. It's just that there's nothing much but bones left on you to hold onto.