I had an illusion
Of a girl who always
Sat and wept on my bed every night

Every night
she wept and washed off
Her sorrows on me

As the nights passed
I felt more heavy and heavier
Than ever I was as in a melancholy.

This had to stop
I was weak to bear
More pain than I had already.

I asked her to stop
And screamed and shouted
Hid under my blanket—frightened insanely.

She never did hear me
And wept more and more
And her tears kept falling

She was I
And the sorrows she bore
Was me.