I want to scream, or bleed,
to make sure I am alive.
I feel like dying, no, not now,
Tear off skin, why should you?
It's umcomfortable and.
And why? Why your skin?
It doesn't look good on me.
But you are beautiful,
Everyone believes you are
and no lying about what?
About my beauty, my ugly,
Don't you understand?
They lie, they always do.
To you? or to me? Why?
I want to go on stage
And scream those lyrics
Of a forgotten song.
Forgotten, I think that word
Is for me. Is it for you?
No, but used. That's what
haunts me at night.
It haunts me every moment
of the day, of the night,
these horribles of. What?
What do you mean, used?
Not in the way that I mean?
Do you mean it that way?
I don't. Mean that way, yours.
I mean it, he touched me.
When? Do you remember?
Not really. It's forgotten.