I'm good at making lines
and never ending them
Forever swinging on
life's daft pendulum
Even in the ice and snow
A girl like me is never cold
Even when there's nothing left to give
And nothing left to show
No pen to write with
and I'm all alone  

I'm good at making lines and never ending them.

Your name
may be of
just letters
But
Sound behind your name
are vibrations of
your soul...

I feel bad for the Moon who burns my skin
It wasn’t her fault, but rather her lover’s
Skin once milky white -
Now swathed in blistery red
What was once a warm embrace -
Now needles in my veins
That deceiving Sun
Who once kissed my flesh into a blush
Has abandoned me to the agony of nightfall
And here I sway among a sea of grass caked in Summer's tears
Shaking my fist angrily at the Moon
Whose glow neither harms nor heals me -
But reveals her lover's trickery

When I look in the mirror
I see only a sneer,
A hardened mask void of weakness.
But beneath the veneer
A child appears
Afraid of the darkness in here.

The worst kind of crying
Is when you don’t realize it’s happening
Until it’s too late to stop

The tears flowing down your cheeks
Like a river
Down your neck
Down your shirt
Until they reach your broken heart