Well I Am The One Who Loves

We Are So Small Between The Stars, So Large Against The Sky.

I Cannot Understand Why My Arm Is Not A Lilac Tree.

[prozac] Didn't Seem To Have Any Effect Whatsoever On My Melancholy, My Dark Vision, And Everything Else That I'd Taken It For.

You Win A While, And Then It’s Done - Your Little Winning Streak.

Seven To Eleven Is A Huge Chunk Of Life, Full Of Dulling And Forgetting. It Is Fabled That We Slowly Lose The Gift Of Speech With Animals, That Birds No Longer Visit Our Windowsills To Converse. As Our Eyes Grow Accustomed To Sight They Armor Themselves Against Wonder.