She Was Not Used To Being Cruel,

Without My Wounds, Who Was I? My Scars Were My Face, My Past Was My Life.

It's Such A Liability To Love Another Person.

Echo, The Death Of A Sound That Had Nowhere To Go But To Come Back.

I Was Tired Of Men. Hanging In Doorways, Standing Too Close, Men Who Made You Love Them Then Changed Their Minds.

This Was The Life I Was Going To Be Living, Everybody Separated From Everybody Else, Hanging On For A Moment Only To Be Washed Away.