Love Is A Dangerous Angel.

I Dreamed You Were Standing In This Dark Place And You Touched These Dead Flowers And They Lit Up Like They Were Electric Or Something. Electric Lilies. Lighting Up The Valley.

We Both Believe In Monsters. But All The Ghosts And Demons Are You. And All The Angels And Genies Are You. All The Kings, Queens, Buddhas, Beautiful Boys. Inside You. No One Can Take Them Away. (missing Angel Juan.)

Each Of Us Has A Family Tree Full Of Stories Inside Of Us, Dirk Thought. Each Of Us Has A Story Blossoming Out Of Us.

You Must Reach Inside Yourselves Where I Live Like A Story, Not Old, Not Young Laughing At My Own Sorrow, Weeping Pearls At Weddings, Wielding A Torch To Melt Sand Into Something Clear And Bright.

That Was When I Cut My Arms With A Razor Blade As A Means Of Creative Expression. I Only Did It Lightly, Just Grazing The Skin, To See The Way The Blood Would Bleed Out, To Make Myself Look Tougher. Not Like Some Of Those Kids Who Keep Going Deeper And Deeper, Wondering What They Look Like Down To The Bone, Because It's A World That's So Close And Yet So Far And So Dangerous And So Much Their Own. The Only World That Is Their Own.