Sometimes I wish

I lived in the

wilderness, just

any animal.

You don't understand

what happens to

you, really. Some

thing hurts you,

you get tired, sick, you

die. Done. It's what's

going to hap

pen. I wish I

could skip all the

worry and hurt.

There are little

things we each can do

for this world. But

the world at large

is one insur

mountable problem

with a billion

or a trillion

lances running

us through

-

For some people, love

is fun - some of

the time. For oth

ers - or the first

people the rest of

the time - it's an

invitation

to bleed out. Pull

the sword out of my

belly to save

me, and I bleed

and bleed and bleed,

unquenchable,

into the soil.

Those were my feel

ings. That's what I hoped

for. That's holding

you, being held

by you. My blood

won't stay in me. It

doesn't consist.