A brittle expression, emotional constipation hidden underneath obscured by yellow-pearl teeth. (and they call that a smile.) soft tone of voice, vague by choice, insecure moon eyes avoid my glare, quick to change the subject, secretive troubled by her psychotic flare. (she hates being under the spotlight.) sensitive and dependent on acceptance addicted to notions of love, fairy tales, believes she can seduce me with a dance clings to me and purrs and ultimately fails. (risk nothing, win nothing, shrivel up in solitude bitch.) I am not your saviour, this armor of mine doesn't shine for you, it is but a mirror without pity, without denial, and cruel in its honesty. (she dismisses everything, how defensive...) risk nothing, win nothing, shrivel up in solitude bitch. smoke some more crystal and twitch this armor of mine doesn't shine for you, so don't dance in it's light.