Sorry.
I died and I died again-tragically first then grotesquely-but nothing changed. I foam with rage but these hot tears burn no more than my think skin. The anatomy is falling into pieces, and the memories come back. The pompous tone of K-pop with lyrics so harsh I fall back down. The explicit rejection to make a change; that glutton, she shredded my dreams and everything else that was left of it.
Now I know how acrostics work (both directions.)