IRC-Galleria

Darling.
Stop confusing me
With Your wishful thinking.
Hopeful embraces.
Don't You understand?

I have to go through this.
I belong to here
Where no one cares
And no one loves.
No light no air to live in.
A place called hate.
The city of fear.

I play dead.
It stops the hurting.
I play dead.
And the hurt stops.

It's sometimes just like sleeping.
Curling up inside
My private torture.
I nestle into pain.
Hug suffering.
Caress every ache.

I play dead.
It stops the hurting.
I play dead.
It stops the hurting.