Daylight Is Nobody's Friend. God

I Think It Will Be A Miracle If I Don't Someday End Up Killing Myself.

At Six I Lived In A Graveyard Full Of Dolls, Avoiding Myself, My Body, The Suspect In Its Grotesque House.

Oh, Darling, Let Your Body In, Let It Tie You In, In Comfort.

The Future Is A Fog That Is Still Hanging Out Over The Sea, A Boat That Floats Home Or Does Not. The Trade Winds Blow Me, And I Do Not Know Where The Land Is; The Waves Fold Over Each Other; They Are In Love With Themselves; Sleeping In Their Own Skin; And I Float Over Them And I Do Not Know About Tomorrow.

My Mouth Blooms Like A Cut.