Hi. I’m From Arkansas, The Cantaloupe State.

Wanna Rock You, Girl, With A Butterfly Tunic. / No, I'm Not Gay, I'm Just Your Emo Enuch. / Gonna Smile Real Shy, Won't Cop A Feel, / 'cause I'm Your Virgin Crush, Your Supersafe Deal. / Let Those Other Guys Keep Sexing. / You And Me, We Be Texting / 'bout Unicorns And Rainbows And Our Perfect Love. / Girl, We Fit Together Like A Hand In A Glove. / Now I Don't Mean That Nasty, Tell Your Mum Don't Get Mad. / I Even Wrote 'you're Awesome' On Your Maxi Pads.

All The Small, Simple, Conscious Acts Of Living A Sudden Defense Against The Dying We Do Every Day.

When I Dream, I Dream Of Him. For Several Nights Now He’s Come To Me, Waving From A Distant Shore As If He’s Been Waiting Patiently For Me To Arrive. He Doesn’t Utter A Word, But His Smile Says Everything: I’ve Missed You.

We Have Work To Do If You Are Not To Be A Total Failure Like High-waisted, Acid-wash Jeans.

In Them, She Saw The Sham Of Her Life Laid Out Like A Book, The Foolish Belief That She, That Anyone, Could Escape The Consequences Of This World, Could Flee From Death. That Was The Deceit. The True Serpent In The Garden.