They are still around,
People still talk with me about them,
And tell me how well they are doing.
It hurts on the inside, but I refuse to show it.
I have been this way my entire life,
I suffer silently and pretend I’m at peace.
But on the inside,
I often wonder,
Why is it that so many who are living,
Treat me as if they are ghosts,
Who can only see what I am doing,
But can never exchange words?
That is when I look back,
And I see the things I have done,
And the pain I’ve caused,
We have killed each other,
The pain has gone both ways.