17 years,
9 months,
17 days

not only does it do the washing
it also makes taking a shower
a real adventure

My legs hurt, I'm cold
and exhausted, think I'll drop.
I know I'm alive

don't cry,
in africa
children are starving

fuck everything
i'm dead
kick me around some more

mind reading
is obviously
a required skill

an old man on the highway
isn't as strange
as it may sound

i followed my dream
to no avail:
it's still missing

there might be
grief i don't see and
screams i don't hear

white patches, dark shapes
pools of misty gold light
a blue-gray backdrop