Flowers Are Reincarnation. They Come Out Of

When They First Kiss, There On The Beach, They Will Kneel At The Edge Of The Pacific And Say A Prayer Of Thanks, Sending All The Stories Of Love Inside Them Out In A Fleet Of Bottles All Across The Oceans Of The World.

The Girl In The Mirror Wasn't Who I Wanted To Be And Her Life Wasn't The One I Wanted To Have.

Pulling Heads Off Barbies, Sticking Them On The Tv Antenna And Ruining The Reception. But Thats How Witch Babies Are.

If Los Angeles Is A Woman Reclining Billboard Model With Collagen-puffed Lips And Silicone-inflated Breasts, A Woman In A Magenta Convertible With Heart-shaped Sunglasses And Cotton Candy Hair; If Los Angeles Is This Woman, Then The San Fernando Valley Is Her Teenybopper Sister. The Teenybopper Sister Snaps Bug Stretchy Pink Bubbles Over Her Tongue And Checks Her Lipgloss In The Rearview Mirror, . . . Teeny Plays The Radio Too Loud And Bites Her Nails, Wondering If The Glitter Polish Will Poison Her.

She Was No Longer A Slow Dreamer Watching The Flowers Grow. She Was A Warrior Now. Warriors Need Something To Fight For Though, Beside Their Lives, Because Otherwise Their Lives Will Not Be Worth It.