letters to the dead

I'm writing letters to the dead, saying things I never said
You can hear me, your words echo right here on my arm
When I felt the needle pierce my flesh
I knew you never left

Paths divided, miles were crossed -
Regret is not a concept for the faint of heart
Never knew your happiness, his song wasn't mine to hear
Your voice transposed and transplanted to whisper in her ear

Dreams, like youth and twisted metal, can't carry on forever
The waking hours fall silent now as they have for years
No caustic wit. No brazen laugh. No brother's well placed word.
Just a missing smirk, an untouched drink and memories remain.