I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of.
Boring damned people. All over the earth. Propagating more boring damned people. What a horror show. The earth swarmed with them.
Being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.
I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.
I wanted the whole world or nothing.
The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.
Those who escape hell however never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that.
A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.
I will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me, and I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.
There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.