I watch you with a shade of sadness as you pale away from my presence.
My heart rate bleating with a fiery roar as I watch your soul attempt an escape.
Her diminutive hands becoming apparent as she pushes against the tether of skin that forbid her to reside in her dream of peace.
But you are not aware that I notice this dreary action.
Instead you look to me with an expression that has been grazed on your face since I slit into my soul.
I know you believe I glue to the walls to not be seen.
That I am of rotten pain and loneliness, too insane to capture my scenery.
But I watch you and watch the way your eyes droop to the pull of gravity and your veins dull to the grim reaper.
And through the contemptuous age your body wilts to the waterfalls of spilt blood. 
You are dying and I choose to bleed out on the bathroom tiles. 
I am sorry mother, you gave birth to an intellectually dehydrated coward.