I have hope

How do you depict a self which is trouble, shit, crookedness and pain?

Where do you go to listen for love?

Where is the life of openness?

Where is my reading from the -- I jested what I did --  body of love?

I asked to let my life -- free is what I want.

Stability of beauty is beautiful as I know because there was a way to change.

It was my life to give myself a possibility of love?

Now I am worried because no one is there to give to.

I think I'ts because I wanted freedom from myself.

At a moment of failure (which I realize is dreaming of my anger).

Past myself:

I thought authority was for poems.

Poems are not dreams.  Poems are not pain.  I need to give myself a reason to work without mantras.

Mantra:  that which needs parts and possibility to make hope.

I have known that nothing is good unless possibility makes it so.

Love under will

Rain was beauty -- belief and worlds -- Oral peace is there to listen to.


I love my life for my heifter who is this world of peace and good.

Stupid is doumb.  Dumb is nerd.

I hate life without family.

I am part of this truth and I hate life without grievance for its need to heal.

happiness and failure were itself cruel.

I knew what need -- and body -- and stars and life partied with ethic things of rest.


I loed what I did.  I do not wish to be here for money.  I wish to give my life rights.

There is change.  There is peace.

I cannot be where there is pain because of hate.

Hate is another way of worrying about death.

I feel myself loving partly of the way that I feel truthful for my hopes and passion.

As a woman was loving so I am my actress.

As myself I deal possibility; as myself I am my own dream.