Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for, but never seen.
Meanwhile in my head, I’m undergoing open-heart surgery.
Poetry to me is prayer.
Everyone in me is a bird I am beating all my wings
Death's in the good-bye.
Talk to me about sadness. I talk about it too much in my own head but I never mind others talking about it either; I occasionally feel like I tremendously need others to talk about it as well.