At Least The Girls In Stories Were

If Death Is Your Lover, You Don't Got To Be Afraid Ever That He Will Ever Leave You

Love Is The Only Thing We Have To Save Us

I Wanted To Die, Then. I Wanted To Destroy The Body I Was Trapped In, Become What She Was, No Matter What It Took. No Matter How Much Mutilation Or Pain. But He Looked Away, At Me. He Pulled My Face Down And Pressed My Lips Against His Like He Was Almost Trying To Suffocate Us Both.

Morning. Strawberry Sky Dusted With White Winter Powder Sugar Sun. And Nobody To Munch On It With

The Circus Tent Was Flowing Pale In The Rain Like A Fleshy Flower Lit From Within. It Seemed To Bloom In The Downpour. Drops Of Rain Caught On Rafe's Eyelashes, Blinding Him As The Circus Light Struck Them. He Groped For The Flap, That Slit In The Fabric That Would Reveal Her To Him. She Was On The Rope Again, Her Skirt Flashing With Tiny Mirrors, Hair Braided With Petals. He Looked Up At Her, Dizzy With It, Seeing Her Face Framed In The Parasol. There Were Bluish Shadows Around Her Eyes.