Just my damned luck
I meet this great guy...

My will to keep on living is dried up and...
for without you in my life, my story can't be...

I close my eyes, so tired of
crying. Trying...

My anger seethes and boils
and pulsates through every vein...

Just stab me where I stand
or place the knife in my hand...

The breath expelling from your soft, blue lips
and the tears that slide down your pale cheek...

Behind a solid cloak of black garb, the poor girl...
Instead of talking and writing, it is in ebony...

Curious...
why does he always find a reason...

The voice that used to make me warm inside
now fills me with an insufferable hate...

The days and weeks I've wasted my life
can never be returned to use once more...

It is like some demented curse
that I have to hide my feelings...

You can compare my life
to a fresh, beautiful rose...