A/N

Really short poem *poker face*

I just want to be hung up on the ceiling,

like a chandelier shining at its brightest,

but also dangling from a rope,

which struggles to keep me up.

Though, I already have fallen,

into a mess of dark shards of glass, only internally.

But as I'm hung up on the ceiling,

I feel the presence of others,

looking up at my corpse and enjoying the view.