Shelves and shelves in a long room.....
That doesn't seem like a healthy thing.
I'm tired of this so called...collection....
Hurts to look, stare at them.
I'm really unhappy 'bout the things that had already passed by....
I don't deserve it.....They don't either.
My own soul is torn...filled with tears and blood
So I decided to lock this room.....
Never to see those jars again.
Never to feel this endless pain....
Of knowing that I might be a monster.
Monster!
How did I come to be like this?
How could anyone turn into that?
However, I kept the key.....
How sick can that be?
Noe I've found that those were all mine....
And with no fixing, I keep switching.
Trying to get a second, third, fourth....chance.
I own a cemetery of hearts that once belonged to me.....
What do I do with the key?
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