If I Could Do It Over, I'd

It Happens Just Because We Need To Want And To Be Wanted Too, When Love Is Here Or Gone To Lie Down In The Darkness And Listen To The Warm.

We Come Into The World Alone. We Go Away The Same. We're Meant To Spend The Interlude Between In Closeness Or So We Tell Ourselves. But It's A Long Way From The Morning To The Evening.

It's Nice Sometimes To Open Up The Heart A Little And Let Some Hurt Come In. It Proves You're Still Alive.

I Cannot Speculate On What Our Cluttered Mind Will Save- Sleepy Sundays, Or A Nosebleed After Love. I Know Only The Dying Heart Needs The Nourishment Of Memory To Live Beyond Too Many Winters.

We Will All Wake Up Semi-angels, If We Wake At All.