Let me sit in a flowerpot, The spiders won't notice. My heart is a stopped geranium.

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

I think I am mad sometimes.

I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.

O heart, such disorganization!

Winning or losing an argument, receiving an acceptance or rejection, is no proof of the validity or value of personal identity. One may be wrong, mistaken, or a poor craftsman, or just ignorant - but this is no indication of the true worth of one's total human identity: past, present and future!

Every day one has to earn the name of 'writer' over again, with much wrestling.