I whisper and you close your eyes. I speak and you turn away. If I scream, will you finally hear me beg you to hold me close to you, promise you'll never let go?

Was the fun in the fall?

I don't think we'll get caught, but the very possibility is half the fun.

The problem with falling in love is falling back out of it again, usually because you've fallen in love with a lie. That happens as often as not.

Your hurt swallows ine, like space swallows time, and the two intertwine. We tangle together.

Religion is for followers... Followers and puppets.

I do have friends, but they don't know me, only someone I've created to take my place. Someone sculpted from ice. I keep the melted me bottled up inside. Where no one can touch her, until, unbidden, she comes pouring out.