Pictures to speak to

Here
Lina and her guy
Sophia and her child
A toble
A house
My kitchen...
Here
My hand on my breast
My eyes asking why they're still
So so far
And people feet
Clac clac clac
On the floor
And people here in my head
Already dead...
Shall I choose how this one should
Be petrified at his age
Perfect age to perfect hour
Going higher would be wrong to stop
For your immortality
I must embrace and crucify
All the beauty in my head
Gone
They're all gone
There's a smell of death all around