Precious things don't survive.

Especially comfort.

Today,

I see everyone all affection.

But I'm hollow.

My heart doesn't burst for anyone.

My eyes don't lust for anyone.

My mouth just pollutes the air.

My false words are ironic.

I would like to cut off my rotting tongue.

Then throw it away.

Burn it maybe.

Then, get a replacement.

Oh,

I would like to love someone.

But I'm afraid of corruption.

Their dark palms may stain my ivory flesh.

I don't want to be presented as a model,

With a fake relationship.

I want to be treated like a queen.

But not spoiled.

I don't even know what to say.

That warm, fuzzy feeling is forbidden.

I don't know who I love,

I don't know who I should love,

I don't know who I could love!

I don't know if I'll ever feel whole again!