Letter From Death Row

At midnight I'll be leaving for a place I've never been.
I feel a bit relieved although I shouldn't.
I re-read all your letters that the prison let me keep,
They're the only thing that got me this far.

This one is the last I'll ever write.
I'm sorry for the hurt that I brought this life.
I hope that you move on to find somebody to give you what I couldn't.

To hell with the martyrs, to hell with trying to be.
I know I don't deserve this life or glory.
There won't be any angels up there singing me to sleep.
You're the closest thing to heaven I'll ever see.

The little things you did that I let bother me before,
Now I wish those little things would last forever.
We used to count the time by how long we'd been apart,
Now my clock is dust on the floor.

We used to joke about never growing up.
We were drunk and yelling "If we die, whatever."
Now the only dream I have is watching you get old, forever.
Throw away the memories, burn all my things.

I know I don't deserve to be a story.
When they ask me for my last words, I know just what they'll be:
"I love every cell that makes you who you are, and everything between."
In less than 24 hours, I'll just be dirt and flowers.

I hope it brings the families peace.
When the darkness of the tunnel is the last place I go,
You're the closest thing to heaven I'll ever need.