Everyone In Me Is A Bird I

Here In The Hospital, I Say,that Is Not My Body, Not My Body.i Am Not Here For The Doctorsto Read Like A Recipe.

O Fallen Angel, The Companion Within Me, Whisper Something Holy Before You Pinch Me Into The Grave.

My Business Is Words. Words Are Like Labels, Or Coins, Or Better, Like Swarming Bees.

We Are All Writing God's Poem.

Fear / A Motor, / Pumps Me Around And Around / Until I Fade Slowly.