The poetess

I want you to know that you bore me so. With you around I feel like an animal. As I lay on my bed, the moon shines on my head. With moon I feel inspired, with people I feel dead. A person laying under the ground for a hundred years or so. A poetess burned her body and found that death was relieving, finally home. I spoke to her yesterday, guess what she said: 'Please don't let them steal your eyes, Please don't let them get to your head', you don't know how right she was. All I need is one connection, one good moment, just a sign. I want to see a real reflection when I look into your eyes.