They tore apart your insecurities
leaving your personality—your soul
naked
alone
they ready your casket wearing cloaks of black
sizing it how they see fit
--too small—
but it doesn’t matter
they claim you don’t matter
unclothed soul
you imperfect being
that’s how they see you as
so they bury you
6 feet under everything you tried to forget
Every lie, different, sinful, unclean thing about you
eventually
buried for so long under these for so long they forget
who you really are
they no longer care
who you were
because now, left behind, you are
cold
forgotten
buried
alone  
but breathing