Washed out, agonizing to be a glass bottle instead...
you concern yourself with to be crumpled; I'm...

Already over, these vines playing
angry melodies upon my palm...

Sunny days aren't promised to us.
I repeat this, my mantra, as Fleetwood Mac...

What would happen
if all our decisions...

He never shuts the door
on those who are too poor...

These words seem out of style
and they can't fit my mouth...

You wallow in your cocoon
a musky scarlet tongue...

People always say you'll know,
and now, I understand...

Wherever your home is,
may your mind be at peace...

Your humanity is beautiful,
even in sickness, in anger, in repression...

Within the first week of February, 2015:
Eloise M. Harmeyer, 88...

When I am touched by tomorrow's rays,
I know I will need to stay alongside motivation...