klairchen i had some at one point,
then i turned them off because i was cold and they were too loud.
endless desire She seems to cling to the comfort
Sounds and familiar voices.
Controlling you with the twist of her finger
Like the fans in her house,
Because, oh dare they buy cool air.
She could only breathe then
Instead of being choked by the dust.
She seems to like the fans though.
The trimmed sense of chill Prickling her skin
Teasing her freckled arms, Poking fun at her imperfections.
Her fan whirls slowly in her room.
The hum is comforting
And she allows it in the cold.
((I taste the dust that bites me))
(I love the musty scent that seasons the blue room)
Always on Low.
Just a Low Mumble.
So she can sleep as the hole grows larger.
She smiles in her sleep, you know?
She smiles
She loves to suffer,
She loves to feel her suffering
It's the truth. Don't be sad, boy.
(Soon) she will not.
Don't go too (soon).
Please don't leave without saying goodbye again.
Leave her there alone, waiting for a reply again.
Sitting in an empty room, learning how to cry agian.
You know She does her best.
You know She does her best to softly suffer.
But You know She does her best.
She writes as her fan spins.
She sleeps as her fan spins.
With all the others in the house,
Together spelling out their song.
Spinning. She's not spinning.
Just Sinking.
But she does love her S's
And she does love her ing's.
Build her a castle so she can sing.
Then she will be safe enough to let down her long hair. You will come to her room and enchant her with your ways. How she giggles with your words, and mocks your funny doings. Kills you with a look. She kills herself, too, you know. Likes it just as much as you.

Fans. They just spin.
what's it to you?
who go