Mummy never speaks, silence answers. Her eyes embalmed as if should I care, embalmed in false hope, a curse I wear. The mummy of mom watches me fail, like her, and smiles knowing I inherited, her smiling, each time I lose the dare. I call a name where all is rotten there. Glass coffin where the world judges me, with breathe of joke I live, the bitter end. Heir of a wound one tried to mend. imprisoning me daily these ways to feel, only to feel terrified, the best of me. Too bad, what could I possibly mean? Darling, she says and laughs, crucifiying me.