(#37) Leaving, Room #07-02

Waterfall, waterfall, memories
Smash it, break the brittle glass
Like an emergency, but neither emerging nor
Desperate, pass me the hammer now,
I want to see the shards fall myself.

Curses, every shard will be sharp
It will cut and scratch my face as I
Shatter the images, this ghastly
Haunting which I will not partake of
Ever again. Let the fragments

Pierce my skin, let it tear me up
I couldn't care less about it anymore,
I will see this hall of mirrors in pieces
Where I will no longer see myself in
Any corner of this room.

These gifts you have given me, let
Me put them to the fire, burn hot
Till it all becomes ashes, and blow it
All over the room, let it fall on the
Broken memories, I do not want it

Remembered, any longer.
All your faces, white like ghosts
Hiding behind the masks in which
You cheat from, your fringe always
Hid your deceiving eyes.

I will not go away quietly, I will
See this entire room turned into a mess.
Unrecognisable, I will make that happen,
I must tear down every single memory
For good riddance. My sand timer

Still pours like the dark red that chokes
My mind with fuel to my nightmares.
As the clock drains the life out of me
Your figures gradually fade to a blur but
The little pieces of silver glass that reflect

Draws a cold breath, I am the
Winter, nothing will survive the punishment
Of my frozen heart. I cannot give love to anyone
Else until I remove you from my temple.
Your candle will never light again-

I don't wish to light it either. A torch, you were,
What deceit, liar. You were nothing but a
Frosted glass candle, you never lit up,
I wish I saw through you-
Your flower blades, your fake jewelry,

Those sweet words were but poisoned daggers
In the clouds, you lined them with
Silver barbs, they looked so pretty
But lethal, I played the fool
To everything. You were cancer to my flesh.

All you ghosts, never will I set foot
In this hall ever again, let the dust clouds settle.
These mirror frames will lie empty, glass
Powder and ruins shall gash whoever dares
Make amendments to my closure.

Prepare the mop and rags, from now on
I will wipe up the blood on the streets
That coagulated from the holes in my
Left-side breast. These pale statues of
Remembrance will never bathe in my pain again.