They Worry About My Sanity

I Would Love To Write A Mystery - A Romantic, Funny Mystery.

Hundreds Of Butts In Piles On The Ground To Mark The Spot, Their Lives Sucked Out Of Them By Their Users In Panicked Distressed Frenzy, Their Souls Floating Around The Insides Of Lungs While Their Outsides Were Dropped, Stamped On And Deserted

What A Luxury It Was For People To Hold Their Loved Ones Whenever They Wanted

Not Like A Heart, Which Let People In Without Permission, Held Them In A Special Place She Never Had Any Say In And Then Yearned For Them To Remain There Longer Than They Planned.

Twice We Stood Beside Each Other At The Altar, Rosie. Twice. And Twice We Got It Wrong. I Needed You To Be There For My Wedding Day But I Was Too Stupid To See That I Needed You To Be The Reason For My Wedding Day. But We Got It All Wrong.