When I feel raw, I create raw things;
Sometimes terrible things.
Road rashed and laid out before you.
When I feel good,
I create beautiful things.
The sweet of creation.
All of them alive--
All of them me.
The beauty and
terror of writing.
I wouldn't call this fond memories of you.
I'd call it the aftermath.
To write is to live,
To not means I've perished.