Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy & peaceful.

It seemed silly to wash one day when I would only have to wash again the next. It made me tired just to think of it.

Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person

Cold glass, how you insert yourself Between myself and myself. I scratch like a cat. The blood that runs is dark fruit- An effect, a cosmetic. You smile. No, it is not fatal.

I want to force myself again and again to leave the warmth and security of static situations and move into the world of growth and suffering where the real books are people's minds and souls.

Please, I want so badly for the good things to happen.

I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.