Shakespeare; the only man I'd ever love.

We had people fainting during the last tour, but I'm aiming for people to actually drop dead at this one.

I only sleep with people I love, which is why I have insomnia.

I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.

I am my heart's undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.

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?

Shakespeare; the only man I'd ever love.