As most children grow up their parents tell them fairy tales. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, all the things that go bump in the night, they tell them all the stories that have happy endings. My childhood was not quite the same. I live in a world where my parents, stalled at seventeen and eighteen years old, glitter like diamonds, and my aunts and uncles もっと見る closely resemble a freshman college class than the hundreds of years old that they actually are. My grandfather, who looks all of thirty, is hundreds of years old. I see the monsters, the ones most children are terrified of, at holiday...

The rain drizzles into her hair,
It seems as if she was always there.
Her mind as pure as the driven snow,
Pain and confusion she doesn't know.
Her eyes open to the glorious day,
Her lips know not what to say.
She looks around with diminished sight
Into a world enveloped によって night.
The hate and rage fills the crevices of her mind
And peace and sanctuary she cannot find.
She is now awake to see
How the world can truly be.
She remembers the quiet stillness of sleep
And wishes again to slumber deep,
But the world in overwhelming sound
Keeps thoughts jumping around.
Slowly she slips inside,
In her mind she tries...