You left me paralyzed. No cure, no rehab for me. Funny that you got the nerve to keep asking me how I've been. You're the victor in this pageantry, but the only trophy you deserve: catastrophe. I'd rather we be dead to each other, no eulogies said for each other. No 'rest in peace's; the memories got my chest in pieces. I'm praying that your eyes are the first to go. The way they looked when you smiled, the way they opened and closed. Then your nose, every single breath against my neck. And then your lips, every empty promise made and said. Please fade. Fade to black. Please fade. Fade to black. But the nightmares comeback.