| "'What is it you strive for?' Dr.Orne asked. 'Someone to look at me and tell me I'm alright-or to hit me,' she answered." |
| Sometimes the difference It all makes... It's all backwards and forwards and inside out in me, if Things aren't taken apart and reassembled somewhere comforting in simple Words, i cannot distinguish a Hawk from a Handsaw. What if a long fall off a Cliff were a jump on a Trampoline? Caretaker come Undertaker Lights on by default. Riddles are my common sense. conceit is my modest Nature. ...and the little girl made faces and got more and more angry with every stand she took...they chanted at her...'Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?' so i took my Silver Bells and my Cockle shells and every time stood them all in a Row. Nana's darling, Papa's sweetheart, and everyone's sweet little maid she's got nana's charm, papa's love, and there are doctor's bills now to be paid. the garden? oh it has grown well, thank you for your concern though all that love and charm, it's caused the earth to churn it bubbles of guilt and self deceit and your daughter...she's still rocking at your feet... |