Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there; something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind

Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.

Today life opened inside me like an egg.

Well, one gets out of bed and the planets don't always hiss or muck up the day, each day.

Psychiatry is a dirty mirror.

I am stuffing your mouth with your promises and watching you vomit them out upon my face.