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All your soft wild promises were words, birds, endlessly in flight.

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Love cannot save you from your own fate.
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The program for this evening is not new. You’ve seen this entertainment through and through.
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There are images I need to complete my own reality.
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We hide ourselves in our music to reveal ourselves
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I want to feel what it’s like. I want to taste it, hear it, smell it. Death is only going to happen to you once; I don’t want to miss it
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Society, parents they refuse to allow you to keep the freedom you were born with.
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No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn.
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Nobody would stay interested in me if I was normal
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We cripple ourselves with lies.
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Listen, real poetry doesn’t say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you.
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I offer images-I conjure memories of freedom that can still be reached-like the Doors, right? But we can only open the doors-we can’t drag people through.
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Out here on the perimeter there are no stars. Out here we is stoned. Immaculate.
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People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit
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Each day is a drive through history.
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You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it.
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Windows work two ways, mirrors one way. You never walk through mirrors or swim through windows.
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