I’ll Never Speak To God Again.

It Is Best To Meet In A Cul-de-sac, A Palace Of Velvet With Windows Of Mirrors. There One Is Safe, There Are No Family Photographs, No Rings Through The Nose, No Cries.

I Talk To God But The Sky Is Empty.

I Started Adding Up All The Things I Couldn't Do.

I Felt Wise And Cynical As All Hell.

Please Don’t Expect Me To Always Be Good And Kind And Loving. There Are Times When I Will Be Cold And Thoughtless And Hard To Understand.