We gather not to bury an era

But to mourn the language of the lost

To eulogize the only music

That ever asked what pain might cost

You weren’t cool - you were necessary

You gave our wounds a name, a sound

Kinship in trials of adolescence

Where breaking down was breaking ground

You showed us that to feel too much

Was not a curse, but proof we’re here

You wore your heart outside your hoodie

And made the pain inside so clear

This is the final song of emo

The last place left where truth could live

Rest in peace to the teenage scripture

That gave us more than it could give

You were mocked for being fragile

Yet you helped us make it through

You made space for our catharsis

In a world that makes no room

The music now is clean and clever

But I don’t hear a soul inside

It dances past what hurts the most

It smiles and sells, but never cries

Where are the songs that say “I’m nothing”?

Where are the chords that crack like bones?

Where are the singers who will admit that they are scared of being alone?

I don’t want glossy affirmation

I need someone who hurts inside

Please, no more songs that answer questions

With dopamine and pride

This is the final song of emo

You weren’t polished, you were raw

Rest in peace to our sacred sorrow

You were more than what they saw

You made anger something holy

You made grief a kind of prayer

Now all that’s left is volume

With no meaning anywhere

Yes, you were dramatic -

But that’s what made you real

Now song are just 10 second clips

Novocaine for how we feel

You’re more than black clothes and eyeliner

You were the ache we tried to write

You were confessions scrawled in notebooks

You were the loneliness at night

Now pain is packaged, grief aesthetic

Punk, goth, and emo - out of style

I need the songs that won’t go viral

Not ones that fake a smile

This is the final song of emo

You weren’t pretty, you were true

Rest in peace to the bruised and brilliant

Who broke so others didn’t have to

Rest in peace to our mirror music

Thank you for keeping us alive

Rest in peace to the last sound

That ever truly recognized…

Us

God, take me back to the basement floor

Back to Hot Topic and slamming doors

To angsty hearts with amps turned up

Where feeling too much was allowed

Take me back to the ugly truth

The songs that shook my fragile youth

I don’t want perfect. I want real

I want to break again to feel

Don’t leave me in this polished emptiness

Where pain gets masked in apps on phones

Give me back the songs that saved me

I’m still not ready to let go…

The death of emo.