Funeral Pyre

I wake up with the same pain every night
Digging a hatchet into my left side
Clearing my chest of something to burn
Ash for a decorative urn you keep in your mantelpiece;
Like a trophy for everything
That withers eventually
Call me a coward, but I’m too scared to leave
'Cause I want you to be the last thing I see
C’mon, call me a coward, because I’m too scared to leave
Watched you pouring lighter fluid out onto the leaves
And I would’ve loved you with the dying fire
Let you smother me down to the embers
Frostbite turning my limbs as black as cinder of funeral pyre
And I would have stayed if you’d asked me to
Stood outside till my lips turn blue
I wouldn’t have blamed you
For leaving me there on the porch while you drank gasoline
'Cause it’s what you needed so bad
And it’s true
It’s nothing that we could do