I Feel Like I’m Eighty Years Old.

Have You Made Any Plans? Take An Overdose, Slash My Wrists Then Hang Myself. All Those Things Together? It Couldn't Possibly Be Misconstrued As A Cry For Help.

Please. Don’t Switch Off My Mind By Attempting To Straighten Me Out. Listen And Understand, And When You Feel Contempt Don’t Express It, At Least Not Verbally, At Least Not To Me.

The Chicken's Still Dancing The Chicken Won't Stop

I Am An Emotional Plagiarist, Stealing Other People's Pain, Subsuming It Into My Own Until I Can't Remember Whose It Is Any More.

Your Hair Is An Act Of God.