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 knew you'd decide to be all right again.
I want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love.
The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.
There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
If you love her", I said, "you'll love somebody else someday.