Your candle shade mercury with a flame burnt out.
Resonating with me; the creator of life but grim reaper of light,
a state of nothingness.
An empty seat in a room of forgotten friends.
Familiar faces, so close to strangers that nothing more than a silhouette comes to mind.
Just a fingerprint on a countertop that's desperate to be cleaned...

You hold a cloth in your hand, and yet, you refuse to rid me of my demons' fingerprints, leaving my heart to take on dust
It beats... slowly...
rippling the surface layer of my tear buds.

Tease me with my own emotions.
Tug and tangle my heartstrings.
Be the puppeteer in my story,
allow your fingers to narrate a tale of heartache.
Leave your words to pound on the pages issued
Let the ink run along the paper, acting as the veins in the cover and spine.

Which I... lack the self-esteem to resist breaking

I push my own boundaries just to add pressure on myself-
No.
Not that type of pressure...
The type that'll make me break a little,
cave a little,
crack and snap
in a way I've never felt before...

I'm addicted to the idea of being someone else...
If only I could reach a cloth and wipe myself away, and just leave behind...
well...
Someone actually worthwhile.