I Felt Myself Melting Into The Shadows

I Want To Be Important. By Being Different. And These Girls Are All The Same.

The First Time It Happened I Was Ten. It Was An Accident. The Second Time I Meant To Last It Out And Not Come Back At All. I Rocked Shut As A Seashell. They Had To Call And Call And Pick The Worms Off Me Like Sticky Pearls. Dying Is An Art, Like Everything Else. I Do It Exceptionally Well. I Do It So It Feels Like Hell. I Do It So It Feels Real. I Guess You Could Say I've A Call.

Some Pale, Hueless Flicker Of Sensitivity Is In Me. God, Must I Lose It In Cooking Scrambled Eggs For A Man.

What Is My Life For And What Am I Going To Do With It? I Don't Know And I'm Afraid.

Please, I Want So Badly For The Good Things To Happen.