I Grow Old On My

It's All A Matter Of History. Brandy Is No Solace. Librium Only Lies Me Down Like A Dead Snow Queen. Yes! I Am Still The Criminal.

Be Careful Of Words, / ... They Can Be Both Daisies And Bruises.

Pulling Off The Fat Diamond Engagement Ring, Pulling Off The Elopement Wedding Ring, And Holding Them, Clicking Them In Thumb And Forefinger, The Indent Of Twenty-five Years, Like A Tiny Rip Leaving Its Mark.

I Must Always Forget How One Word Is Able To Pick Out Another, To Manner Another, Until I Have Got Something I Might Have Said... But Did Not.

I Am A Collection Of Dismantled Almosts.