A Wish to be Forgotten

I'll bury the hatchet...
Right in his fucking skull.
Let the blood splatter,
I want them all to know what I've done.

Tell them all, that because of me
He no longer breathes.
Watch them cry,
Acting like they knew him.
A funeral filled with fakes.

Fond memories fill the air,
Of a man they never knew,
That they never tried to meet
But just assumed.

Know that this is him,
What he became.
And he would be most pleased,
If you could oblige
And forget his name.