How Hard Can It Be

I Am Ninety. Or Ninety-three. One Or The Other.

So What If I'm Ninety-three? So What If I'm Ancient And Cranky And My Body's A Wreck? If They're Willing To Accept Me And My Guilty Conscience, Why The Hell Shouldn't I Run Away With The Circus?

I Want Her To Melt Into Me, Like Butter On Toast. I Want To Absorb Her And Walk Around For The Rest Of My Days With Her Encased In My Skin. I Want.

Do You Have Any Idea How Much An Elephant Drinks?

Although There Are Times I'd Give Anything To Have Her Back, I'm Glad She Went First. Losing Her Was Like Being Cleft Down The Middle. It Was The Moment It All Ended For Me, And I Wouldn't Have Wanted Her To Go Through That.