Anna Findhé Malenica

I know what it's like to want to die.
How it hurts to smile.
How you try to fit in but you can't.
How you hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside.

How the hell am I supposed to recover when I don't even understand my disease?


Shall I abide in this dull world, which in his absence is no better then a sty?

I will make me a willow cabin at your gate, and call upon my soul within the house...
I rush into the secret house...