ON dry land I drowned, the only
Smile I have is a frown and I cut
Myself in vein
...
In the time of May
The living dance upon
My grave
Some how Through The darkness
...
In a white room I stand
With the man in white
I see him talk but hold
My ears tight.
...
In your golden age, you lose your self for things that can not be yours
The man in white whispers in your ear, 'A small price to pay for something that you don't use... anyway' and shows you many doors
They all slowly creek open and you look about for more
...
I scream my love to you
I ask for limitless love
But can't return it
...
Thoughts of you consume me
Hold power over me every
Second of the day
...
-The sweet melancholy of Ana Olvera
As told by someone who actually was there
Sometimes you just don't have enough
...
It consumes without regard
It shape without regard
It bends you to its will
We are helpless in its power
...
We were born before the stars
We ran wild and free. what this
World holds we have yet to see
...