Once I Thought Ideas Were Exceptions Not

If You Love Somebody, Tell Them.

I Chose The Shadows; They Did Not Choose Me. I Stay Here Securely Not Just Because I Feel Plain, But Because Disappearance Is By Now The Easy Way. The Habit. The Worn Path That I Can Trod Knowingly And Be Assured Safe Passage Home.

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.

If I Could Do It Over, I'd Do Better.

The Gifts That One Receives For Giving Are So Immeasurable That It Is Almost An Injustice To Accept Them.