If You Died It Would Be Like

I Am An Emotional Plagiarist, Stealing Other People's Pain, Subsuming It Into My Own Until I Can't Remember Whose It Is Any More.

Your Hair Is An Act Of God.

They Will Love Me For That Which Destroys Me.

What I Sometimes Mistake For Ecstasy Is Simply The Absence Of Grief.

I'm Here, Got No Choice. But You, You Should Be Telling People.