There's a party downstairs, there are colorful balloons and the child is playing the piano for them, everyone is happy and smiling, running into each other's arms, I am upstairs, I am hateful and wrathful, this room of living dolls and quiet waxen ballerinas is not my prison, I am the prison, it is me, love is my estate, I sit alone speaking an unknown language, deliciously, infinitely, spiteful, because of a cruel promise long ago, I do not have happiness, my bones are made of velvet and I have an avalanche of remorse. It will end soon, some things you cannot undo.