It could be you, right?
No
I can only wish.

My tears aren't going to wipe themselves,
That's why,
That's why my fingers know all to well
where cheeks are.
But it's my throat
where they find themselves.

After all, I'm the girl
who pats her own back.

It could be you, right?
No
I can only wish.

After all, I'm the girl
who writes poems for herself.