I was dead

So this is how I'm feeling,
Sitting staring at the ceiling,
I haven't moved all day,
Wish this was not the only way.

You might think that I was dead,
But you can't see inside my head,
That picture, on the wall I trace,
The only thing I see: your face.

Sometimes I wish that I was dead,
So you were at last out of my head,
But then I still would never know,
If love for me you'd ever show.

And that is what hurts me the most,
Wondering if I'm just a ghost,
Or if you've ever looked at me,
And seen the things I always see.

Don't make me wish that I was dead,
Tell me it's real what I said,
The thoughts that scream around my head,
Tell me that you don't; want me dead...

....please chris, you're killing me, though you don't know...