Poised and posed caressing her fro of curls, dwelled in the overhead whispers of, "Is she a model?" She's a figure 8 without ice skates, shaped like a Coke bottle.  She's about 23 with 'death' stamped on her medical history, the tall dark man watches her from across the bar and assumes to un-clue her mysteries. Talks for an hour and she's not taken by his charm, she stalks and lurks in her demented thoughts...it's his type she sets out to harm. She uses her pink matter as a weapon, though men don't realize it's disguise. She follows him home and nails his coffin, her sick intentions burn deep into his eyes. He thinks it's seduction, passion, and is deep love to go raw on the first day, but his life from now on is a ticking time bomb....because she never mentioned that she has full blown A.I.D.S.

Lonely is a girl someone once loved too much.
Lonely lays in bed and thinks of why it was too perfect.
Lonely stays up till 4 and wakes at 6 only to be alone.
Lonely cries and blames herself.
But Lonely forgets…
Lonely ignores the memories of pain.
Lonely doesn’t acknowledge the fights.
Lonely dismisses the abuse as her fault.
But Lonely still lays in bed and thinks of why it was too perfect.
Lonely cries and blames herself…

Fire, Fire - burning bright
Dancing flames throughout the night,
Red, Blue - Orange, Gold,
Now the fires growing cold.
Fire, Fire - burning bright
Dancing flames turn out the light.