Do you know they found land mines in woman's souls.
I am wrong more often than i am writing and even then i am often wrong
We're boxed in and labeled before we're ever able to speak who we believe we are or who we dream we'll become.
I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.
And we were Banksy on an overpass in New Orleans spray-painting porch lights on the hurricane. We were welcome mats for the un-forgiven. We never sold our windpipes to make a living. We were the letters sent to the wrong address, but opened anyway. We opened anyway.
We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.