Your Room Is Not Your Prison. You

I Cut You Out Because I Couldn't Stand Being A Passing Fancy.

I Need Some Older, Wiser Being To Cry To. I Talk To God, But The Sky Is Empty, And Orion Walks By And Doesn't Speak.

I Was My Own Woman. The Next Step Was To Find The Proper Sort Of Man.

It Is Awful To Want To Go Away And To Want To Go Nowhere.

I Would Say Everything Should Be Able To Come Into A Poem, But I Can't Put Toothbrushes Into A Poem, I Really Can't!