Cry For Me

If I were to somehow leave this place,
Would you cry for me?
Upon my mangled body and shattered heart, 
Would you cry for me?

Would you take this burden into your own hands,
And find a way to make it beautiful?
Would you come to me and stop my hands from working, 
just so that the lives around are safe?

I often imagine laying in bed, 
the ceiling blocking my way to the dotted stars, 
singing the world to sleep.
I often wonder how deep I would have to be in the Earth 
to muffle their wandering screams.
I think so often about it, 
that I forget about the stars that weep. My family.

If I were to one day die, my body ridden with eternal sleep,
Would you cry for me?
Can I finally be at peace, 
knowing my tears can flow to new worlds, 
to be free of my body forcing it down? 

But, what about your tears? What about your voice?
Will the songs of your agony be masked by the sound of a funeral bell?
Will I be able to hear it? 
Will I regret my decision?
Will I ever be able to cry for myself, just as I did for others?

Maybe I should stop my blood from spilling, 
and find a way to turn it into rain to feed the flowers.