the tears over the face, dry and shy six feet under all our dead maidens rest my maiden, i, with the seed of a genocide dead and unfinished, a beautiful figurine i used to like funerals 'til i saw hide's why is a factor, what another one and nobody can truthly understand me symbolism and my words fell in deaf ears the cult of the hurt: earth; sky; wounds; only one may guess the social thing still pretending, feel like a wannabe but i don't wanna feel myself helpless please, please, all of you, leave me alone     under this fallout