Lay down next to me, supine, and hold your hands together like you’re praying.
Disgust those around you. Focus on the part of your mind that hates you, on what it’s saying.
Blade close to flesh and flesh close to me.
Open me up, lift open the skin, break the ribs.
Within the abyss of life lives rotting death.
Lean your head back and chant through laggard bre-e-eath,
“Oh, tomb you are. I’ll wear every scorn as individual scars.
Hold me within those cages, oh ossuary mine.
I’ll die for you in time, and curse every inch of my undying design.”
Within my chest I’ll hold you. Close to my heart.
As you rot away within me I’ll pull you into all my favorite parts.
Organized by importance and severity of regret,
The Shattered memories as bones and tears turned crystal black jet.
In their reflection we will sing,
“Oh, tomb I left behind. To walk the world I left burned in kind.
The dead will climb out of my chest and choke me slowly to death.
Oh ossuary mine, I’m fed up with this design.
I wish to be with you, constant in my chest.
A memory of bones,
My ossuary blessed.