Do I Want To Die From The

Used To Be That My Whole Body Was My Canvas-hot Cuts Licking My Ribs, Ladder Rungs Climbing My Arms, Thick Milkweed Stalks Shooting Up My Thighs.

Mr. Freeman Sighs. "no Imagination. What Are You Thirteen? Fourteen? You've Already Let Them Beat Your Creativity Out Of You!

In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves.

I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

I Believe That You've Created A Metaphorical Universe In Which You Can Express Your Darkest Fears. In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves, And Sometimes We Do Such A Good Job, We Lose Track Of Reality.