Dying

I painted a picture of a blue sky, our family (the way we were, before we died) I hung it in your bedroom, so that you won't forget: we used to be so happy, you used to be a kid. Before mom took emma, before dad “went away”... It's sad to think we had that, but worse to know it's gone.
From me to you, with sincerity, I won't ever leave. But i'm tired, i'm weak from the smeared ink of it all.
Black skies, I paint our funeral; we died 'cuz long term ain't meant to be. Our house is painted new colors, move on, forget the blood inside. I'm tired and I can't feel my heart. I'm dead and I can't paint blue skies. I hope you can remember the way it all used to be, I hope you remember how much she loved you.
Because I can't.