Not Really Dead

Lying on my bed,
I watch the silent rain.
As do the tears,
my voice screams with pain.

"Why my? Why me?"
I, over and over, scream.
Not everything is always
as it appears to be.

Patience is to anger
as love is to lust.
You have died in my heart,
a broken mirror of trust.

Behind the wall,
you've managed to seal
all fears and truths
that time cannot heal.

Isolating yourself,
you try to escape.
Longing looks toward your killer,
the gun which holds your fate.

You shake your head violently,
thinking your mind is mistaken.
But you somehow convince yourself
that it's best to release this burden.

The rain has stopped now.
I walk to your gave.
My tears all for you,
the dearest person I couldn't save.

I slowly stand up
as the day turns to night,
but stop so suddenly.
Could my ears have heard right?

My eyes split wide.
You're not really dead.
I realized it's not my ears; my mind:
your heart pounding in my head...