Don't adorn me like the dead.
I deserve to look like myself once again.
Suspended from the sky like ornaments.
Nothing to no one, only memories misread.
I am a farewell that even heaven won't accept.
Collecting scars like souvenirs of pasts we can't forget.
Broken glass, swept over the bodies I know best.
I am a farewell that even heaven won't accept.
Separate me from a finished product like needle and thread.
Translating words to portray the vacant pages they live in.
A requiem worshiped for the pauses it contains.
Praising not the essence but the meaningless remain.
Collecting shards from mirror images of me.
I am no idol for the weak.
Nothing to no one, a memory misread.