Welcome Beauty, Banish Fear.

I Dreamed You Were Standing In This Dark Place And You Touched These Dead Flowers And They Lit Up Like They Were Electric Or Something. Electric Lilies. Lighting Up The Valley.

That Was When I Cut My Arms With A Razor Blade As A Means Of Creative Expression. I Only Did It Lightly, Just Grazing The Skin, To See The Way The Blood Would Bleed Out, To Make Myself Look Tougher. Not Like Some Of Those Kids Who Keep Going Deeper And Deeper, Wondering What They Look Like Down To The Bone, Because It's A World That's So Close And Yet So Far And So Dangerous And So Much Their Own. The Only World That Is Their Own.

Besides, Secretly, Without Knowing It Herself, She Had Been Waiting For A Beast To Go To.

His Own Voice Was Older Than He Was. Ancient, Unearthed From Some Mystical Subterranean Place...the Voice Seemed To Make His Whole Body Ache. Maybe It Made Him Bleed Inside. I Wondered If It Hurt, If It Burned In His Throat.

I Think Depression Creates In Me An Urgent Need To Write, But I Also Believe That Daily Stress, And Even The Positive Stress Of Intense Happiness, Can Compel Me To Express Myself Through The Written Word.