Dirt on Your Grave

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.