For those who thought me dead

For those who thought me dead
 

I die a little every day
Not knowing what I'm dying for
I feel the pains of the wounds
And the warm blood dripping

What is a rotting body?
Even though I'm alive in the gaps of time?
In the tired heart the scars
Of unhappy loves and vices

If I am dead, then of me so little remains
For those who killed me
They die every day in their anguish

And your cold tears will not spare your cold
I die, but they die with me too.
Deeply rotten in your sorrows


💙