Insomnia, hold me in your arms, for I want to watch the stars. Shooting stars, save a wish for me, though I'll still keep the dandelions in a jar just in case. My forgotten midnight dreams, they swirl around in a supernova, painting ink through the chaos. She's a dreamer and she knows it, she's a writer and she bleeds it. Can anyone help me pick up my shattered dreams? Who am I? Help me find myself, and if you happen to know, please inform me.