I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.

Women tell time by the body. They are like clocks. They are always fastened to the earth, listening for its small animal noises.

Now I am going back And I have ripped my hand From your hand as I said I would And I have made it this far.

sorrow is easier than guilt.

Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.

I'm the crazy one who thinks that words reach people.

The sanest thing in this world is love.