Foggy nights bring some comfort.He can get lost in the mistand there is no one to stare or question.

How do I learn to speakwhen silence is all I know?

But the walls of my resolvemortared with stubbornnesshave been breached by circumstancesI cannot handle alone.

Let me live my final days whole.Let my memory remain that I might know love's face.Life don't unwrap me to be fed to scavengers.I want to escape into light - not exist in darkness.

I seek to be moved, my imagination reborn.Let me feast on poems that feed my hunger.

I now know how your angercame from skeletonsthat rattled in your heartand you couldn't escape them.

I am lost in my world, invisible - unknown.Moon please lend meyour light that someonewill me see me.

If there is passion, let me feel its heat.I want my heart to beat fast, my breath raspy, my skin to burn.

I am a butterfly poetbirthed from painflying with the freedomof my verses.

I didn't know the demonsthat walked across your memory.They came from the dustwhen you were at peacein your grave.

I am not perfect. Are you? Let us accept the fact that nobody is perfect. Let us learn to accept our imperfections as well as those of others.

Heaven invades earth when there is agreement here to what exists there. Honestly, that's how it happens.

Let the fictitious sources of pleasure be as near as possible to the true.

I believe that Congress will and must act before then to renew its objections to multiple and discriminatory taxes on the Internet, as well as to taxes that inhibit Internet access.

I have thought that men and women should never come together except in bed. There is the only place where their natural hatred of each other is not so apparent.

Art, if it is successful, needs no explanation.

I have been cautioned to talk but be careful not to say anything. I do not consider this a difficult task.

The days of foot-in-the-door harassment and snatched photos are gone.

I am, of course, romanticizing; a chronic tendency of mine.

Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness