A salty tear mixes with
her black mascara and caresses...

Serenity is sold
in small plastic bottles...

Her knees are bruised from kneeling
on the cold, hard bathroom floor...

You promise me you'll be okay
only to find you the next day...

Her thoughts are racing,
concentrated on the next time...

I feel my thoughts becoming actions;
each second that passes...

She was 16 the day she died,
in disbelief her lover cried...

Nothing matters when you're broken,
when your whole world has been turned...

Every cut
Every bloody tissue...

I promtly tie my hair back and make sure
to turn on the faucet to drain out the noise...

Take my hand lets fly away
flee from tomorrow and forget today...

Fat; it's everywhere, like some kind
of disgusting infection. I am its only...