All these years my conscience tells me how you...
And somehow I tell myself your act is all too real...

We're strong to die
Under these sirens that tell us not to stay alive...

We've always had a dream of dying at the bottom of...
We're a two-way street and we don't know how to...

You know I can't live with this
Your words change everything...

A December spent in my thighs
Now it's time to rake the springtime...

Dedicated to Morgan
Please tell me you came up with a reason...

I need something to sweeten the taste
When eight years of a bitter, fragile being...

Look back at me with content
Tell me your words have good intent...

[sort of a mixture of past poems of mine)
It's really not that bad...

I look at you helplessly crying
I hold your hand, endlessly dying...

Who I am and who I want to be are equally strange...
when they speak...

Your gestures don't fill my desire
I fill my room up in a trash bag...