some words for the dead.

words for revenants and the like.

[necrosuggestion]

I became so accustomed to being dead I must have forgotten how to live

[necrosuggestion]

Your childhood home finally falls to decay, and you wonder whether to house hunt or stay.

[necrosuggestion]

I could haunt you until you’re here too.

[necrosuggestion]

It’s cute when you talk about dying like you know what I know.

[necrosuggestion]

It took me three times to get me to Finally die, but guess what? I came back

[necrosuggestion]

The fog is coming. The fog is rising and I’m searching in it for something, something familiar. It’s so early the sun hasn’t risen, but the sky is wholly silver. But I don’t remember the night ever ending. I don’t remember sleeping. Where am I?

[necrosuggestion]

They look at me like they would the devil, like prey. And I wonder what they see with their naive eyes.

[necrosuggestion]

I still remember your last words.  Do you remember mine?

[necrosuggestion]

Do you ever wonder what your bones look like underneath all that disguise?

[necrosuggestion]

It all disappears, but I’m stuck here. I’m as permanent as trees and rocks and bones, until they’re gone too.

[necrosuggestion]

The world changes around me but I know I hardly will.

[necrosuggestion]

Good and evil are relative terms, there’s always better and worse.

[necrosuggestion]

I’m still trying to remember to utilize facial expression, I forget so often that this form doesn’t allow you to feel my emotions. I’ll get used to it, give me time.

[necrosuggestion]

Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want to go to an afterlife?

[necrosuggestion]

This vessel where my body can’t escape, this unfamiliar human shape... I can hardly stand it trapping my nature, and volatile penumbra and hum. You don’t know how it feels, trapped, and masked as a stranger to myself.

[necrosuggestion]

I refuse to leave. What wounds you left me with will never fade or dissipate But I won’t let this be the end of me. I will outlast you.

[necrosuggestion]

You’ll find me buried under fallen leaves and wandering harvestmen, Cold firm earth over a forgotten name and place. I’ll be in the shivering trees and corner of your eye, the back of your mind and tip of your tongue.