Computers,
finicky, creations...

Your love lies melted in sticky puddles, scattered...
unable to wash away it stays, ingrained in my skin...

I can't begin to tell you,
exactly how I feel...

Is depression genetic?
or is my pain self induced...

The tiny sparkling strand,
glistens in the morning sun...

Plush,
white fur...

I am the number lower than one,
the only number who's not any fun...

Rot and stink,
You bird of get swell...

I used to be able to tell you anything,
and I knew you would understand...

Trapped,
alone forever...

Punishing these children,
for each and every mistake...

Alone in the emerald forest,
as the sun hides it's face behind a cloud...