Never pray for justice, because you might get some.
When we think of the past it's the beautiful things we pick out. We want to believe it was all like that.
we lived in the gaps between the stories
They spent the first three years of school getting you to pretend stuff and then the rest of it marking you down if you did the same thing.
oil paints...the look of licked lips.
But my dreaming self refuses to be consoled. It continues to wander, aimless, homeless, alone. It cannot be convinced of its safety by any evidence drawn from my waking life.