But Sometimes Living In Denial Was The

It’s Scary Telling Someone You Care About, Someone You Love Who You Really Are.

Falling In Love Was A Solo Act. I Knew That, Had Learned That The Hard Way. You Just Jumped And Hoped Your Parachute Opened. Sometimes You Looked Up And Saw You Were Falling By Yourself, The Object Of Your Desire Still On The Plane, Not Interested In Jumping, Watching You Descend Into That Scary Place Alone.

I Want Those Young Whipper-snappers To Know That In Days Past We Actually Used To Kill Trees And Make Those Things Called Books.

Once Desire Was Turned On, Combustion Gave It A Life Of Its Own. Once It Was Turned On It Became A Raging Wildfire, Uncontrollable And Uncontainable, The Type Of Conflagration That Had To Be Allowed To Burn Itself Out.

Not Keeping A Promise Is The Same As Lying!