Label me heartless, color me free. You don't know me. You have to right to judge. You don't know the fear or the coldness that runs in my viens. Perhpas I should start from the beginning. Retell the scars that mal my skin. Relive the burises that have long since faded. Or should I start earlier? With the dreams? That refuse to let me settle? Or the young child so carefree, still older than all the others? The child who raised herself among the blind? Or even before that, with the drunken bastered meeting the insane bitch? Or shall I commence even earlier than that? With one of the brightest minds of our time, locked in place putting up telephone poles? And tell of the intelligence that faded to insanity. Or should I simply begin now, with the home of blood, insanity, and fear so deep it makes one hurl? You think you have it all figured out, but you know nothing. You don't know me. I'm trapped, but I'm free. Forget them all for one moment, Let me be the heartless bitch that runs in my viens.