Love Is Love. It Doesn't Matter How

Faith Is The Fool's Excuse.

One Of The Beautiful And Terrible Things About America Is You Can Go There And Still Be Whatever You Want, If You Bust Your Ass And You Have Some Luck.

We Stare Into Each Other's Eyes And Softly Kiss Speaking And Saying More With The Movement Of Our Lips And The Tips Of Our Fingers Than Words Will Allow Us To Say. Words Can't Say This. The One Word Love Means Too Little For What It Is. It Means Everything And That Is Still Not Enough. It Doesn't Communicate Even A Fraction Of The Feelings Involved. Love. The Word Is Not Enough For What It Is. Love. Love.

My Life Is Routine. I Wake Up Early In The Morning. I Brush My Teeth. I Sit On The Floor Of The Cell I Do Not Go To Breakfast. I Stare At A Gray Cement Wall. I Keep My Legs Crossed My Back Straight My Eyes Forward. I Take Deep Breaths In And Out, In And Out, And I Try Not To Move. I Sit For As Long As I Can I Sit Until Everything Hurts I Sit Until Everything Stops Hurting I Sit Until I Lose Myself In The Gray Wall I Sit Until My Mind Becomes As Blank As The Gray Wall. I Sit And I Stare And I Breathe. I Sit And I Stare. I Breathe.

And As Ridiculous As It May Sound, Sometimes All Any Of Us Needs In Life Is For Someone To Hold Our Hand And Walk Next To Us.