Six feet under your skin.

Hey believer,
Please come give your faith to me.
Hey there apathetic,
Why won't your courage rub off on me?

Hey there Mother Earth,
I'd love so much to be under your skin,
Six feet under your skin..

Hey there Father Time,
When does your clock run out?
When will I stop ticking?

Oh Maker,
I'm ready to come home,
I'm ready to come home.

Hello dear Silence,
When will you come to drown me?

To visit the grave of the living.

When someone dies, the image you have of them always stays the same. If they die at the age of 15, 30 years later they will still be 15 to you. It must be a strange feeling to remember your best friend on your 30th birthday, 15 years after their death. I think it might be a way that we force ourselves to move on. Maybe as you forget the 15 year old that once lived in you, you also slowly forget the 15 year old that has died everywhere but inside your mind.
I do not have the experience to sit here and tell you how hard it is to visit a close friend's grave. I can, however, tell you how hard it is to want to when they aren't even dead.
The changes life brings can kill off anything, whether it's a friend, a family member, a pet, or even your hope for a better tomorrow. And, with every death, you also die slowly. One vessel at a time.
There is good news for you who are dying. With every death, comes knowledge. And with knowledge comes the dawning of new life. When something dies, it leaves behind a part of itself that will always last forever. Whether it's physical, or just a mere thought, something new and beautiful can always sprout from it.