There are few who grasp
The depth of emptiness...

D R E A M
ON...

D R E A M S
Of little girls...

Ripped...
Stripped...

I wait...
I hope...

What occasion
Has warranted this...

I don't recall
A time...

Four Walls all joined by perfect right angles
It is there where I sit curled up in a corner...

I've often wondered
What hides...

Love is a strange thing
Which I have yet to understand...

There are Men...
and then...