the roses suffocate

tell me a bedtime story,
one where i die in the end.

my fingertips spell out the three words you tried to tell me weren't true.
my fingertips spell out the words, "p-p-p-people always leave"
forgive my stutter,
words don't want to come out anymore.

four years ago i died for this,
i just wasn't aware of that at the time.
my heart feels broken.

i was stressed and sad and it was white,
it was so white.
and you wouldn't put your arms around me.
still, the closest i've ever felt to god was when i was burying my face into the backs of your shoulders.

goodnight moon, 

i hope neptune makes you happy.