A Woman Who Writes Feels Too Much.

I See Myself As One Would See Another. I Have Been Cut In Two.

For I Could Not Read Or Speak And On The Long Nights I Could Not Turn The Moon Off Or Count The Lights Of Cars Across The Ceiling.

I Am Out Of Practice At Living. You Are As Brave As A Motorcycle.

The Trouble With Therapy Is That It Makes Life Go Backwards.

I Remember The Stink Of The Liverwurst. How I Was Put On A Platter And Laid Between The Mayonnaise And The Bacon. The Rhythm Of The Refrigerator Had Been Disturbed.