Who am I?
What have I done?
Where have I been?
Who do I know?
What am I good at?
What do I like?
Where do I want to be?
Who do I love?
Is there a face to these hands-
Typing and typing, are they pulled by strings?
Am I hollow inside
Or is there soemone in that flesh?

I don't think so
Peering inside these hands-
Typing and typing, they are pulled by strings
I can see hollow blackness
If there were any noises
They would echo in here
But it is silent
I am silent
Who am 'I'?

Maybe I should remind myself
Whoever that may be
Maybe I should go to bed
Wherever I may find it
Maybe I should break away
From this tireless machine

I warn me now
You- yes, you
Me,I,you- girl with those hands:
Flirting with insanity will be our end
But we are too afraid to even move
Even scream or twitch

Dying is one thing
But slipping into the abyss of madness
Is quite another

Leave now