In the dark of the night,
He sits and he waits...

That angel sits
On the perch today...

It's dark in here,
in this hollow body of mine...

The clouds roll in like a herd of wild horses.
Nothing to see but the curse of the sources...

In the mirror I see
Something I don't believe...

" I just want to say that this poem is about...
She sat there by the window...

It's okay to cry when crying is to be done...

A friend once told me
To open my heart...

It doesn't matter
Who I am to you...