Don't Miss Me

Don't miss me.

The ink is dry, but the words are not.
And my room is only as empty as you want it '
The items, just items '
They are me. The room is filled with me

And the silence I left is crowded,
So many words unsaid that the air is like a storm cloud
And only with this will it become clear '

Only with this final out-pouring will it pour
And keep raining until it's all out

And these words, sun-dried and freeze-dried -
The becoming of a legend

As opposed to the unveiling of a liar.