My veins have cracked like fine china
on a cold stone floor
now, I write this, to whom I adore

I swim in a cesspool of love, alone
and these lovely, lovely waters do chill my milky bones
my bones all ripped are gently sewn
by the one I adore

There is a resting place, in the forest of dreams
whereby dreams are only choked by the rivers reeds
and after sewing bones, he is sewing seeds
the hands of he whom I adore

There is a pearlescent white sky, yet I lay on the floor
stabbed by the pins of the one I adore
my body will rot into the flowers that once grew
and they will bloom, and say
''I love no one
no one like you.''