Far away, I hear a lullaby and quickly awaken.
I don't know why, but my fingertips are cold and numb.
My ripped-up stuffed animal starts talking to me.
"I'll tell you the truth about who you really are," it whispers.
Where does the white flower boom? It blooms in my dirty hands.
I melt the piece of half-eaten chocolate in my mouth.
I just need to wait for this strange ritual to come to an end.
The stuffed animal, with its insides coming out, keeps trying to talk to me.
Your voice, which you hate, sounds like a broken violin.
What is it that you gave to me?
What is it that you gave to me?
What is it that you gave to me?
What is it that you gave to me?
What is it?
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