If I Rest, If I Think Inward,

Dying Is An Art, Like Everything Else. I Do It Exceptionally Well.

I Like You, But Not Too Much. I Don’t Want To Like Anybody Too Much.

Ever Since I Was Small I Loved Feeling Somebody Comb My Hair. It Made Me Go All Sleepy & Peaceful.

When You Give Someone Your Whole Heart And He Doesn't Want It, You Cannot Take It Back. It's Gone Forever.

Do We Always Grind Through The Present, Doomed To Throw A Gold Haze Of Fond Retrospect Over The Past?