I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty, and Orion walks by and doesn't speak.
I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.
Widow. The word consumes itself.
I keep wanting to crawl back into the womb.
I am silver and exact.I have no preconceptions.
What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want.