on the edge of dream

Listen for the wind.

I am flying right through The inner lives of clouds By the seat of my pants Which are presently on fire And it’s a little hard to tell Whether we’re closer to Heaven Or further from Hell When I suddenly hear a voice Coming from insid

I have outlived Ernest Hemingway and Curt Cobain, two of my heroes I never tried sleeping my way to the top of the literary heap As others have done. I've won no prizes My work goes unrecognized and more often than not Unpublished Am I sur

What I would say

promise me

Through feeling her life story, I understood mine, more,