Come Sunday I wished,

That it would have rained,

So maybe,

Innocence would flee,

From beneath my skin,

And behind my eyes,

And from all of me.

So maybe,

It wouldn't hurt so bad.

And if I could scream,

Loud enough for all the world,

I wouldn't say a word,

Because I know,

There's no one sane enough,

Out there,

Who can afford to care,

So much they could,

Save my soul from,

What I have become.

But none of these words mean,

Anything,

Void of meaning,

In a world,

With no,

Feelings.

(ears, eyes, nose, mouth, skin.)