I cut myself because you wouldn't let me cry. I cried because you wouldn't let me speak. I spoke because you wouldn't let me shine. I shone because I thought you loved me.
If you want to be safe, walk in the middle of the street.
And falling's just another way to fly.
Simply put, if you are a Wayward Victorian Girl, I'll find you.
If leeches ate peaches instead of my blood, then I would be free to drink tea in the mud!
Why can I never go back to bed? Who's is the voice ringing in my head? Where is the sense in these desperate dreams? Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?