You Might Say That Death Has Relaxed

Breathing Is Optional, But I Need Some Air.

It's A Strange Feeling, Being So Utterly Surrounded By Her. Her Life Scent Is On Everything. She's On Me And Under Me And Next To Me. It's As If The Entire Room Is Made Out Of Her.

All My Life I Have Battled The Alarm Clock, Pummeling The Snooze Button Over And Over With Mounting Self-loathing Until The Shame Is Finally Strong Enough To Lever Me Upright.

We're Fumbling In The Dark, But At Least We're In Motion.

I Would Like My Life To Be A Movie So I Could Cut To A Montage.