cancer

you are a festering whore.

perfect?

not here, not love.

inner knowing

to touch you, even once, would be to never walk away.

mr rorschach

i know this might come as something of a surprise.

you and i both know how long i've held on to the dusty, rose-colored corners of my mind. and i love a titillating mystery the way i love old books and what did or didn't happen at roswell.

but quite honestly, these cards you've been showing me...

i'm beginning to see, well...

inkblots.

moving house

export quality arrgghh.

irritation

there's something about him that i just can't stand about myself.