But There Was Something About You That

For The First Time In My Life I Realize Why Hangers Are Called Hangers, Because After Fifteen Minutes Of Trying Things On And Throwing Them Aside, All I Want To Do Is Hook One To The Top Of My Closet Door, Lean My Neck Into The Loop, And Let My Weight Fall.

And Who Am I To Blow Against The Wind?

Why Won't They Leave Me Alone? Don't They Realize I Have A Tinder Heart And A Paper Body And That Any Spark Will Turn Me Straight To Ash?

Maybe There's A Way To Keep Us In This Moment. Not The Sad Part. But The Coming Together Part.

I Hope That George Doesn't Internalize Her Scare Tactics. I Want To Argue With Her, Tell Her That "sins Of The Flesh" Is Just A Control Mechanism -- If You Demonize A Person's Pleasure, Then You Can Control His Or Her Life. I Can't Say How Many Times This Tool Has Been Wielded Against Me, In A Variety Of Forms. But I See No Sin In A Kiss. I Only See Sin In The Condemnation.