That book on my shelf.
The one you can't see?
Its full of thoughts.
Full of words.
Every entry written to you.
Nothing important,
Nothing said.

You've never touched the sun, but still you wobble.
You've lost your light.
You're barely holding on.
But here you dance, shining bright.
I love my little flower.
Even if I don't love its stander.

I own a million plastic flowers.
My million plastic flowers, sitting on the shelf.

I'm much too harsh on plastic flowers.

Here they say I die alone,
left forgotten on my throne.
Deaf to my world
Heart grown cold.
Oh here they say I die alone.

All again, my body's pulse,
Alfred please, don't be repulsed.
Coughing blood, forgetting you,
Flaying hearts, dropping parts.

I always loved you, but never could.
You always kept me safe, but never warm.
I always talked to you, but never spoke.
You always kissed me deeply, but missed and kept me sloppy.
I always held you, but never closely.
You always laughed, but never smiled.
I always wanted, never had.
You always talked, but never told.
I always fail, and couldn't hold.

A million times the world has left me lonely.
A thousand times I've cried until I bled.
A hundred times I've broken boldly.
I've always had my final friend.

The loneliest hearts are the strongest.
Great stone walls but porcelain hearts.
I am only frozen when alone again.
My final friend's the freezer,
My final friend's the end.

You held my hand and kept me close.
Held me in your arms and let me cry.
Rot my eyes and stab my heart.
But keep me solidly unstable,
within your poisoned arms.

The pain that keeps me here,
The sickness that attacks with my every weakened thought.
The hands that hold my hair back as I fail to keep my food.
The sheets that keep me safe when I can't stop shaking.
You truly are my last true friend.

Hold me dearly, and oh so sweet.
Keep me crying, keep me red.
Sadness I have lived with, for all my days.
You've eaten my heart and drank my soul.
Truly dearly, final friend.
You are my end.