I cried and cried because I couldn't do anything besides cry. Oh God just looks at me now... one night opens words and utters pain... I cannot begin to explain to you... this... I am not here. This is not happening. Oh wait, it is, isn't it?
I am a ghost. I am not here, not really. You see skin and cuts and frailty...these are symptoms, you know, of a ghost. An unclear image with unclear thoughts whispering vague things...
If I told you what was really in my head, you'd never let me leave this place. And I have no desire to spend time in hell while I'm still, in theory, alive.
I just wanted to go home to azelaic. He will never leave me and protect me from everything, every danger of this distraught place. Where are you azelaic? please, come back to me and I will never let you go away fr
