Because to tell you the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape

I write poetry anyway and have for years and years. For me, putting fiction and poetry together is like the best of both worlds.

Don't you know? We're connected by an invisible chain. It's very long, very light. But also very strong. It can't rust. Can't break. And the only thing that can sever it is if you ever stop loving me.

Disappointment Can do a couple things. It can drop you into a giant sucking sinkhole of depression, a place you have to fight to climb out of. Or it can trigger an epic mania to overcome the odds and transform failure into success. Say you swing as high as the chains will take you because you seek the thrill of flight, and on the up- kick, you lose your seat. Injury is likely. But if you worry about falling down, and never chance "up," the sky will remain forever out of reach.

i expected demands. he gifted me with tenderness. i expected ego. he let me experiment. i expected disrespect. he called me beautiful. i expected him to expect perfection. he taught me all i needed to know.

She is angle. I am curve. Together, we are geometric sculpture, and we make perfect sense.

Love can complete you. It can also destroy you.