You're the first thing
I ever wanted to keep to myself...

It wasn't always tears and anger
soul eating madness...

-open-
My heart,like...

This heart is broken
and useless...

You look at me
like I have something...

In her dreams she is a hermit
who lives in a remote part of town...

'Growing up only means doing what's best for you...
I still remember...

I see your holding on to my hand,
As if you're never going to let go...

Just understand
that it has nothing to do with you...

..and who will heal the writer,
when the well has run dry...

I am worn out,
look bad at 22...

My mother has no diplomas,
doesn't speak more than the Spanish language...