Funny, we always know before we are told, curse of being a woman, curse of being aware.
Crossing the path of the hated and jaded.
Was I talking or having another dream?
I can always fall back on Robert and become one of Africa�s wives.
I can�t keep hiding from you under the covers with you.
I drilled the past year on my back so I won�t forget and I won�t keep clinging. Now I can breathe you in if you let me, then I will let you out, if you promise not to forget me.
There was some sort of wind that cleared my head last night, but now I am dead sober. I can no longer see that cool dark light.
She saw vampires that wore chains on their faces and kissed all of her friends in the moving theatre.
Kiss me on Friday. But promise that Sundays. Are meant for. The earning of meat.
Moss grows when we are slow, but it makes us soft to lay on
I watched in my rearview mirror as he turned and drove back to her. I can know no more pain.
Blood goes with everything.
I drip dry my hair for hours to get it to look like this.
I am learning not to smell you on trips to the shore.
The fog rolls across the road as if it has somewhere to go.
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Someone is packing up all their old dream tools.
Of course someone here has to smell like you.
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When will I meet my Wake Up Paris?
My burnt shoulder wants you to lay on it.
I had a nightmare about horses, it is not what you think
She's the princess of the land where her status allows her no more freedom than chattel. I would rather be poor here than know her riches.
In times of abstinence, I start to feel wholesome, then I remember Julian and know I can never be good again.
It takes time, sometimes, for a woman�s face to match the age of her body or her body to match that of her face, but when you see defined laugh lines you can guess the true age of one�s soul.
Being around that particular person puts an itch in the back of my skull.
Only people that really love me know that I dance in crowds and when I am alone, I will also cry to strangers and laugh in my sleep. It is just the way I am.
Her attainability and closeness to normalcy make her a realistic Venus.
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Lately, I have been afraid to be alone with God.
Heather Nova is right about making it sound like waves. I did that this morning.
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He already counts and is moving up far too quickly in the ranks.
She burned the red rabbit. (an entire idea for a story that holds my whole heart)
I have already eaten my words about you. I even put some chocolate on them.
Elizabeth is waiting next door -for this storm to pass.
His anger is repellant, his eyes fierce and dumb. A dangerous combination.
In trying to cage it, I produce more venom. Directed at a source of my possible happiness.
I should have just run away, but now I want to know too much.