Crumpled, Creased, Ripped.
This is my life on paper...

Your words suffocate me
Why won't they let me be...

How stricken the moon looks, growing in the sky
So quiet, so sad, so sick...

Show me that you really understand.
Take my breath as you take my hand...

-Instead of making me better, you're just making...
This makes me sick...

The wind passes through us,
As if our bodies where hollow trees...

A far fetched hope
A silent cry...