I Have A Violence In Me That

I Have The Choice Of Being Constantly Active And Happy Or Introspectively Passive And Sad. Or I Can Go Mad By Ricocheting In Between.

And I, Love, Am A Pathological Liar.

One Thing, I Try To Be Honest. And What Is Revealed Is Often Rather Hideously Unflattering.

Even Amidst Fierce Flames The Golden Lotus Can Be Planted.

O Heart, Such Disorganization!