Sing the aria for me.

I do not know what to do with all this pain under my skin.
It bled through like tears, like snot, like blood,
but it doesn’t die down.

I want to know what it’s like sitting quietly under the shade of a tree.
I have forgotten what it’s like to smell the rain,
what it’s like to touch the grass.

I want to know why there’s such a ruckus in my head,
why it doesn’t die down,
why I’m so lonely.

My loneliness is such that I cannot feel you
even when you’re grasping my hand in yours
and touching my skin with your lips.
My loneliness is such that I desperately claw for you.

I do not know what to do with all these strange dreams,
excess feelings,
alien existence,
clamour,
chaos,
hate,
pain,
love,
pain,
sob,
pain,
pain,
pain.
Like Ophelia, I am possessed.