You, my creation, my art,
you every throb...
Around three in the morning
your soul was still fluttering...
slipping
slipping...
Dad never shows his
Emotionally drained...
Stress
please quit stressing me up...
You pounced on my vulnerability
with your luring charm...
In April,
I was one...
la la la la la
This is where I try to breathe some sense...
Beatings many,
love notes few...
They all are gone
but their souls...
Professional manipulator
Of niave, vulnerable souls of...
I am tired
Just tired...