talking in a cemetary (without much reverence)

if you really wanted to starve
to death you could have done it
before i knew you so that only you
could feel the emptiness you so
craved and loved and worshipped

if you really loved to see
the bones protruding from
your ever-paling skin then
why did you ever tell me
that you loved me?

and your answer is
here lies
no longer count
here lies

(my bones:
my love
my life
my death.)