Spiderlike, I Spin Mirrors, Loyal To My

Happy! That Is Indefinable As Far As States Of Being Go.

Not Being Perfect Hurts.

I Wish To Cry. Yet, I Laugh, And My Lipstick Leaves A Red Stain Like A Bloody Crescent Moon On Top Of The Beer Can

That Afternoon My Mother Had Brought Me The Roses. "save Them For My Funeral," I'd Said.

I Am Still Raw. I Say I May Be Back. You Know What Lies Are For. Even In Your Zen Heaven We Shan't Meet.