It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative--which ever is running at the moment dominates my life, floods it.
O love, how did you get here?
Widow. The word consumes itself.
I talk to God but the sky is empty.
Can a selfish egocentric jealous and unimaginative female write a damn thing worthwhile?
All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.