There Was A Part Of Her She

When We Were Arguing On My Twenty-fourth Birthday, She Left The Kitchen, Came Back With A Pistol, And Fired It At Me Five Times From Right Across The Table. But She Missed. It Wasn't My Life She Was After. It Was More. She Wanted To Eat My Heart And Be Lost In The Desert With What She'd Done, She Wanted To Fall On Her Knees And Give Birth From It, She Wanted To Hurt Me As Only A Child Can Be Hurt By Its Mother.

We’d Torn Open Our Chests And Shown Our Cowardly Hearts, And You Can Never Stay Friends After Something Like That

I Knew Every Raindrop By Its Name.

I Have The Belief In Boldness. What I Generally Lack Is The Boldness Itself. Because Boldness Doesn't Feel Bold. It Feels Scared Not Brave.

All These Weirdos, And Me Getting A Little Better Every Day Right In The Midst Of Them. I Had Never Known, Never Even Imagined For A Heartbeat, That There Might Be A Place For People Like Us.