When my fingers are interlocked with his
Peace consumes me...

Dear little girl,
With your naturally pretty waves singed straight...

He tells me I'm my own worst critic...
But how can I see past my own imperfections...

Once in a while,
When I'm sitting alone in my room...

Walking throug the snow, I know death waits
on my doorstep...

Dive in deeper
into the abysmal place...

Puckered up
reminders...

It's a solid object hanging in the room
Tense words...