My Nature Is A Quagmire Of Unresolved

Hopefully, I Write What I Don't Know.

Moon, Moon, When You Leave Me Alone All The Darkness Is An Utter Blackness, A Pit Of Fear, A Stench, Hands Unreasonable Never To Touch. But I Love You. Do You Love Me. What To Say When You See Me.

What Has Happened Makes The World. Live On The Edge, Looking.

I Heard Words And Words Full Of Holes Aching.

Writing Is The Same As Music. It’s In How You Phrase It, How You Hold Back The Note, Bend It, Shape It, Then Release It. And What You Don’t Play Is As Important As What You Do Say.