I stammer slightly,
your eyes peering in...

To tell a story is a glorious feat,
but living it is far better...

Shaking,
stained...

I can't break the surface
I'm drowning in these thoughts...

Withering.
I would rip out these vocal cords that allow me to...

She plays with little dollies,
and smiles faintly...

I never loved before.
Never, not even slightly close to this...

I would like to pretend that I
deserve this feeling...

So this is the fake passion
the obsession...

If the sun would fall from sky,
I believe the moon would continue to shine...

A thin line
I have been told...

Curled into what little there is,
blood spreading forward to consume...