Postcards From No Man's Land

People are telling me every day that I need to let go. I know that I want to. Most days I wish that I could simply let you go where you belong. Frank is here and he loves me, but you won’t let me love him back. You wanted me to go to him, but not any more. Death has made you a selfish boy, and it has in turn rotted me into a zombie.

Your soul is tucked away inside of me, so I can’t possibly let you go. When I even try I get pins and needles in my heart. They poke and stab and make me numb. I open my eyes and I am bleeding. From my fingers and my legs. Mostly my heart.

Voodoo Heart.

Every time I think of you is another needle stuck in my heart, another pin driven straight into the middle of my eye. Voodoo Heart. I can’t control my actions, emotions, pins and needles in my heart and my brain. It makes me so, so sick, and I can’t stop breathing no matter how hard I try.

You would be so disappointed in me, Gee. Here I am, fading away. Here I am, becoming a ghost. Here I am, for the final time…and now I am here no longer.

I want nothing. I want everything.

I want you.

I am a selfish boy.

Goodnight, never goodbye.

Voodoo Heart promises goodnight, and goodbye forever.

Voodoo Heart makes everything numb. My actions are no longer under my control. Paralyzed, sterilized by alcohol, but my breath is so sober. Voodoo Heart, Voodoo Boy. Voodoo Mikey.

Just you remember, my actions are no longer under my control.