She Should Think About Her Own Soul,

The Word Rattled In My Head Like Rocks In An Oatmeal Box.

She Would Be Half A Planet Away, Floating In A Turquoise Sea, Dancing By Moonlight To Flamenco Guitar.

I Felt Beautiful But Also Interrupted. I Wasn't Used To Being So Complicated.

Girls Were Born Knowing How Destructive The Truth Could Be. They Learned To Hold It In, Tamp It Down, Like Gunpowder In An Old Fashioned Gun. Then It Exploded In Your Face On A November Day In The Rain.

I Wanted To Tell Her Not To Entertain Despair Like This. Despaire Wasn't A Guest, You Didn't Play Its Favorite Music, Find It A Comfortable Chair. Despair Was The Enemy." -white Oleander