Suicides Have A Special Language. Like Carpenters

To Die Whole, Riddled With Nothing But Desire For It, Is Like Breakfast After Love.

It's All A Matter Of History. Brandy Is No Solace. Librium Only Lies Me Down Like A Dead Snow Queen. Yes! I Am Still The Criminal.

Letters Are False Really - They Are Expressions Of The Way You Wish You Were Instead Of The Way You Are.

Abundance Is Scooped From Abundance Yet Abundance Remains.

...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own Skin And Dug Into Her Soul And Found It Full.