everyday she wallows in her dream pacing back and forth, with nothing in between the devastated girl has given up the boy has fallen to the fate of luck tells her with a slight smile, its just a virus. she laid on him and I cant touch it its buried in. its all for nothing this web of you is just a cycle of abuse. since you said it's fine, I might believe I might believe. Dirty girls are easy to decieve. A penny for your thoughts or just to take your clothes off. Rather dull the pain, than stand out in the rain to catch the virus that seems to be the undercurrent of my insanity the lowest layer that has been fused beneath my cycle of abuse. It's just a virus he says to me its not the prison you make it out to be. too bad your dying, too bad its true. as is this cycle of, cycle of abuse.