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The day in the life of Stella.
Just poetry and what not that comes to me at random intervals of time when I'm sittin' in my good ole' computer chair.
She's screaming too loud, trying to break out.
Get her out.
I'm trying to shout.
Get her out.
She's in my head.
Get her out.
She wants me dead.
Get her out.
She cut me.
Get her out.
Why can't you see?
Get her out.
It's not me can't you tell?
Get her out.
Because of her I'm not well.





 
 
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