The Rumble Of The Life Outside Was

I Am Empty Of Everything. I Am Empty Of Everything But The Thin, Frail Ghosts In My Room.

I Found When I Was A Child That If I Put The Hurt Into Words, It Would Go.

After All This, What Happened? What Happened Was That, As Soon As I Had The Slightest Chance Of A Place To Hide In, I Crept Into It And Hid. Well, Sometimes It's A Fine Day Isn't It? Sometimes The Skies Are Blue. Sometimes The Air Is Light, Easy To Breathe. And There Is Always Tomorrow.

Soon He'll Come In Again And Kiss Me, But Differently. He'll Be Different And So I'll Be Different. It'll Be Different. I Thought, 'it'll Be Different, Different. It Must Be Different.

Something In Her Brain That Still Remained Calm Told Her That She Was Doing A Very Foolish Thing Indeed.