The Trouble With Morning Is That It

If You Tell Them What They Want To Hear, They Don't Bother To Try To See.

What You Want Can Be Yours. But You Must First Know What It Is You Want.

I Refuse To Let The Past Find Me Here.

This Is The World We Live In, Gemma, For Better Or For Worse. Make Of It What You Can," He Says, And I Pull Him To Me.

No One Asks How Or What I Am Doing. They Could Not Care Less. We’re All Looking Glasses, We Girls, Existing Only To Reflect Their Images Back To Them As They’d Like To Be Seen. Hollow Vessels Of Girls To Be Rinsed Of Our Own Ambitions, Wants, And Opinions, Just Waiting To Be Filled With The Cool, Tepid Water Of Gracious Compliance. A Fissure Forms In The Vessel. I’m Cracking Open.