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Rest
in
peace, the preacher concludes his speech as you lay out of reach.
One by one, the dirt your loved ones held in their hands is released.
So many things I wish I could say.
But you can't hear them when you're so far away.
I can't accept the fact that you're gone.
I will commit the act that conveys my choice to admit that you're not here today.
Dirt clenched in my fist, I face away.
I will not submit and put the dirt on your grave.
It's been eight weeks, and I'm sorry I haven't come to talk things out with you.
Living life without your perfect smile has been difficult to do.
So many things I wish I could say.
But you can't hear them when you're so far away.
I can't accept the fact that you're gone.
I will commit the act that conveys my choice to admit that you're not here today.
Dirt clenched in my fist, I face away.
I will not submit and put the dirt on your grave.
Your scent still lingers where I lay my head to sleep.
I can almost feel your fingers, but they're just beyond my reach.
And I still hear you laughing... at least that's how it seems.
And I still see you, but it's only in my dreams.
Your ghost, it hovers over me.
I need my sanity.
I will commit the act that conveys my choice to admit that you're not here today.
Dirt clenched in my fist, I face away.
I will not submit and put the dirt on your grave.