The Dead Poet

I guess I'm dead because I died.
I still can write, don't seem surprised,
Just clasp my wrist and wave goodbye.

The lightning snakes against the skies,
Veiling false cures in black sunrise.
I guess I'm dead because I died.

There's something in the perfect lie
That favors friends and happy sighs.
Just clasp my wrist and wave goodbye.

Tiny seemed the most fitting size
For poison poised inside a fly.
I guess I'm dead because I died.

Am I still? Not everyone tries
As hard as you to sympathize.
Just clasp my wrist and wave goodbye.

What is left? Now, now, don't cry.
Here, your syllable slipped down my thigh.
I guess I'm dead because I died,
Just clasp my wrist and wave goodbye.