Hey, how are you doing
I'm doing just fine
I lied
I'm dying inside.

I'm one foot in the grave
How about you
My mind is like a cave
And it doesn't really matter what I do

But hey how are you
I'm fine
I lied
I'm dying inside

I may crack smiles
But my heart is racing at 60 miles
And behind a closed door
Tears crash to the floor

But hey how are you
I'm doing just fine
I lied
I'm dying in...

November 10.
The cold bites me. The setting sun kisses me.
I read your letter aloud and did not let myself cry.
Quiet. Today is quiet.

*— L, from the journal “Winter And Its Waking Breath”

We walked and walked
along the trail
the ground made wet
by mist
and morning chill.

The limbs of oak and maple trees
stretched their shadow—
a collage of red and orange leaves
settled beneath our feet.

October whispered soft spirits over us.

now when I think of love I want to puke,
the thought literally makes me sick to my stomach because I know now what it does to a person

how you lose yourself in someone else and then all of sudden you can't breathe anymore without them

I am promising myself to never be that stretched again,
to give myself a try for once, relying only on my intuition and will to power through life and relationships, never getting too blind to see things as they really are

I wanna know what it's like to be so good alone that the earth shatters when I take a step,
electricity radiates from my skin and my soul is so loud it shouts through my eyes