Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

Sadness is worse than any infectious disease in existence.
It kills all parts of you.
Your mind, your body, everything you wanted to be, and everything you were ceases to matter when depression seeps into your bones and fills the cracks of your universe.
Your universe is reduced to crumbs; ashes of something once incredibly beautiful.
Each strand of your personality rots down to thin tangled threads that can't hold you up anymore.
Everything you thought you knew and loved doesn't make sense to you now.
You are not a person.
You are not a human being.
You have no face.
You have no body.
You are yellow ivory dust.
A crumbled statue that used to stand tall.
You are nothing to anyone you ever thought you meant something to.
You are a whisper of a memory and that will never be good enough to hold their attention.
What are you if nothing matters?
Who are you if you have no features?
How are we to distinguish you from the rest of the peeling soiled wall paper?
How do I remember being someone who doesn't exist?
How do I even pretend to be a hollowed out shell of her when I'm not even that anymore?
I can't go back.
I can't go forward.
I can only rot where my feet meet the pavement.