The neglected child became my friend.
I know he's dead, I know.
But i believe he knows me...
We share the pain and rare joy of neglect and confusion,
Because only he understands.
The neglected child became my friend.
And to ease my stress he bleached bones and put them back together,
He told me about his lonliness and I understood,
I know he knows me...
The neglected child became my friend.
In death he smiles as I get to know more about his life.
He smiles as I'm slowly pushed to the edge,
As my mind slowly slips,
As I slowly give up...
He smiles because he knows me.
~Addict-with-a-pen~
