Heirloom Pt 2

As if I could bring down the moon
To crater the dust I was sheltered in
I built a haven from brittle wood
Crafted from the splinters of my ruptured youth

I am forever compelled to carry my wounds on my frail limbs
As an heirloom and as a gift to bury me with

I am eternally compelled to limp away from the home I know
Like an animal dying and keeping my death a secret from you

Let the blade gash at my skin
My blood will stain the places I have lived

Your blood runs thick
The curse of a family name

Surrounded by the love I call my home
I dream of my funeral
Embrace my wilted soul after death
No love will be lost