Why he never lived

6 feet under
you begin to regret that choice you made


You didn't enjoy life.
An idealistic bastard, though you dreamt of nothing but death
and now you're lying in dirt and empty promises
i guess death isn't how you hoped it would be, huh?

You drank Liquor.
Sold your soul to the devil.
Though he is not a drunk.
And he does not want it
Why did it take you so long to figure out?

I wish you didn't die so soon
Wish we were still sitting on your roof
contemplating underground metal

I wish you knew what Satan was really like
Though I do not know-
And don't care to, either

I wish you didn't try to be someone different
because you are only best
at being yourself

Doesn't it bother you, Francis?
Doesn't it bother you that you're not comfortable in your own skin?
That you are wearing a disguise
beneath a million more
and more
and more
and more?

And then what?
Francis.

And then what?

You feel naked without your act
and once you're there, with Satan.
With Satan who you say you don't fear

Once you're there with Satan
And you begin to feel your pulse increasing
You will look up
High up
(you were always on the short side)
and say
I wish I hadn't fell in this hole

But the funny thing is

you were always in it.

I wish you knew that conforming to the devil
is the same as conforming to a society.

And that you contemplating metal
did not make you different.

That makes me chuckle a little, francis.

Knowing that after disguising yourself so much.
You only really begin to feel different.
When you are yourself.

But who are you now, Francis?
Being 6 feet under hasn't changed you.
I hope it gets better. And hope that you dream of something bigger than death.
Of something liberating.
Wish you had lived.

Why didn't you ever live?