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).