A Body Built By Death

The stench of oak fills my lungs,
as I find myself trapped inside a wall,
no memory of how I arrived.
I force my way to the other side,
and find myself face to face with you.
Only you don't see me, and, unblinking,
turn away from me.
You sit at your desk, a letter in hand.
Written at the top, my name.
A sigh, as you place it down
among the heap of other letters,
my name scribbled atop the page,
with nothing else to see.
Just as when I was alive,
you have nothing to say to me.
Always so cold and empty,
you'd draw me in, then spit me out
just as easily.
The last hug you gave me
was hollow as your words.
And even in death,
you find a way to break me.
Your last gift to me
is one final disappointment.
You've let me down
for the last time.
I'm giving up on you now.

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