There Is No Doubt That Running Away

I Would Never Be Part Of Anything. I Would Never Really Belong Anywhere, And I Knew It, And All My Life Would Be The Same, Trying To Belong, And Failing. Always Something Would Go Wrong. I Am A Stranger And I Always Will Be, And After All I Didn’t Really Care.

I Have Tried," I Said, "but He Does Not Believe Me. It Is Too Late For That Now" (it Is Always Too Late For Truth, I Thought).

It Was The Darkness That Got You. It Was Heavy Darkness, Greasy And Compelling. It Made Walls Round You, And Shut You In So That You Felt Like You Could Not Breathe.

I Am Sad, Sad As A Circus-lioness.

Love Was A Terrible Thing. You Poisoned It And Stabbed At It And Knocked It Down Into The Mud - Well Down - And It Got Up And Staggered On, Bleeding And Muddy And Awful. Like - Like Rasputin.