The head chairs meetings
voices creep...

Alone is one of my favourite words,
it has no echoes of loneliness...

My favourite thoughts
are simple in their complexity...

Standing on familiar soil
I see the echoes...

Give up looking
in the mirror...

The clock does not know
it will continue ticking...

It is hard to trust
when fear leaves...

We promised to
meet, a pact made...

It was long ago
and memories now...

I was born your angel
not in the sense of the good girl...

You came here without a path
your role is to forge one...

She who puts herself together
with perfection is hiding the secret...