She's your little nightmare,
but to you she's nice,
she cuts peoples' throats and drives in the knife.
Huffing a dream as she enters an imaginary scene,
high on such a life.
Dreaming of friends that are only pretend,
but trying to live a life.
So confused on what to do,
without her fairytales,
she would die.
Still your little nightmare with the scars above the layers undernieth,
she's fallen in love with you,
doesn't want you to ever leave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem