Inferior to the faces hanging over me.

You choose to join them, I remain unaccepted.

So what's left for us...paper mache conversations?

So what is left for us? Back to the nothingness we started at.

I've devoted a world and you can't spare me pity.

Your words have threaded this web of rejection.

I can only promise that I will unmask the faces hanging over me

(the only thing i will ever be is a memory).