If You Want To Look Like The

Have Patience; The Lovers Will Suffer Lovers Always Suffer.

She Had Opened A Door... And Now She Was Walking With Demons. And At The End Of Her Travels, She Would Have Her Revenge... Pain Had Made A Sadist Of Her.

We Are All Our Own Graveyards, I Believe; We Squat Amongst The Tombs Of The People We Were. If We're Healthy, Every Day Is A Celebration, A Day Of The Dead, In Which We Give Thanks For The Lives That We Lived, And If We Are Neurotic We Brood And Mourn And Wish That The Past Was Still Present.

So We Make Stories Of Our Own, In Fevered And Envious Imitation Of Our Maker, Hoping That We'll Tell, By Chance, What God Left Untold. And Finishing Our Tale, Come To Understand Why We Were Born.

We’re Too Much Ourselves. Afraid Of Letting Go Of What We Are, In Case We Are Nothing, And Holding On So Tight, We Lose Everything Else.