Vanity

It's the end of an era My sweat drips onto the floor while music of melancholic melodies spread throughout my room My eyes don't see beauty anymore I've succumbed to the numbness of my hideous reflection An unpleasant taste left in my soul , no longer shall I be privileged to the sweet nourishment of bread nor wine A burden held upon me to ring the bells of the cathedral of Notre-Dame I will forever run This sickly world that I've grown fond of ; the high hopes of it's entertainment has given me , I will never be as beautiful and I've made my peace I've made my peace with myself , I've compromised with myself My ungrateful desire to not be alive , my "ungrateful" desire to have never existed on this earth , in this world My ungracious habit of saying thanks to this world that has so much to offer and so many stories to tell As my body grows ill and fragile , as my soul cracks like porcelain ; I will wish to have never been insecure with myself and I regret the time that I stopped loving the only one true person who I should've loved the most : myself The person I've never come to love and yet the person who I've spent with for my whole entire existence