Writers, Especially Poets, Are Particularly Prone To

Inside Us, A Flower Taken Whole, A Field Built Inside.

There Is A Physics To The World, Which Non-fiction Has A Contract To Stand In Awe Of, Otherwise It Becomes Completely Self-centered And Ego-driven, Which Is The Death Of A Memoir.

I Offer Emily Half Of My Hit Of Acid- Love Saves The Day. It's My Second Or Third Time Tripping, Emily's First, And She's Understandably Trepid. Awake All Night, At One Point I Find Her Touching Her Reflection In A Cruelly Lit Dorm Bathroom, Asking If She'll Ever Be The Same. I Kiss Her Then For The First Time And Whisper, No.

Read As Much As You Can. Write Only When You Feel The Inner Need To Do So. And Don’t Ever Rush Into Print.

Some Part Of Me Knew He Would Show Up, That If I Stood In One Place Long Enough He Would Find Me, Like You're Taught To Do When You're Lost. But They Never Taught Us What To Do If Both Of You Are Lost, And You Both End Up In The Same Place, Waiting.