Words are whispering past menI don't hear them anymorenlife is falling around menI can't hold onto itnslipped through my fingersnpeople speak, I've no replynI'm empty insidenbu for the incessant screamingnwhich refuses to subsidencan you hear it?nnI've been dying a long timendown on my kneesnthere's no way out of herenI've been dying a long timencan't seem to pick up the pieces of my lifennLiving sculptures of the deadnmy pastime, to pain gone pastnI offer this shrine to younnthis alter to despairnthis chalice of anguish I amncan you bear to sip this holy waterncan you bear one droplet of my wine?nnA rather monumental occasion, isn't it?nTwelve months ago to the moment you destroyed yourself,nmuch as I told you you would.