"Whose hands are these,
Alien and aimless?
Picking through all the things
That I've stored whеre longing lives.
Someonе told me once
Want is never painless;
Someone told me once
Passing is all that pain is...
Inside my chest, a string of wants could stretch for miles.
I think that it breaks apart my fragile ribs
When I'm unmoving for a while."
