Don't adorn me like the dead. I deserve to look like myself once again. Suspend 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 worshipped 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.