• Am I really lonely enough that I speak to inanimate objects, crazily rocking back and forth, feeling so alone.
    Am I really cold enough that my depression's closing in, squeezing out all happy thoughts so that I could be trapped.
    Am I so dead inside that I collapse when drama starts, knowing that this cell will not let me escape.
    Am I really so confused that the maze just laughs at me, feeling so the puzzle pieces hide and dissappear.
    Am I really so in love that I must keep on walking forth, eating myself inside out, damaging my soul. Till I am nothing more tha a grain of dust in the wind.