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He Said That Black Sheeps Express Everyone Else's Anger And Pain. It's Not That They Have All The Anger And Pain-they're Just The Only Ones Who Let It Out. Then The Other People Don't Have To.

-Francesca Lia Block

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He Said That Black

Francesca Lia Block

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He Said That Black Sheeps Express Everyone Else's Anger And Pain. It's Not That They Have All The Anger And Pain-they're Just The Only Ones Who Let It Out. Then The Other People Don't Have To.

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She Wished She Had A Little Yellow House Of Her Own, With A Flower Box Full Of Real Flowers And Herbs – Pansies And Rosemary – And A Sweet Lover Who Would Swing Dance With Her In The Evenings And Cook Pasta And Read Poetry Aloud.

Find The Goddess Inside Yourself Instead Of Looking For The God In Someone Else.

Under The Ground Seep The Toxins Of The Population That Lives Above. If You Have To, You Will Eat Roots And Earthworms. It Is Always Night. Candles Burn In Lanterns Made From Tin Cans. When It Is Nighttime Up Above, You Can Crawl Out, But Only For A Little While. You Feel Ashamed Of Your Matted Hair, Your Torn Clothes, The Dirt On Your Face. Who Would Want To Speak To You? They Are All Shiny And Pretty. They Have Parents And House With Gardens. What Do You Have? The Earth. Whole Handfuls Of It. The Lizard People With Their Slit Eyes And Scaly Skin. Your Loneliness. Your Longing.

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What Sexual Preference Do You Hope She Has?” “happiness.” Isnt That Cool?

I Pounded Through The Houses, Staggering Down The Hallways, Falling Down The Steps. It Was A Hot Streaky Dawn Full Of Insecticides, Exhaust, Flowers That Could Make You Sick Or Fall In Love. My Battered Impala Was Still Parked There On The Side Of The Road And I Wanted To Lie Down On The Shredded Seats And Sleep And Sleep. But I Thought Of The Bones; I Could Hear Them Singing. They Needed Me To Write Their Song.

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In Mexico People Wear Hummingbird Amulets Around Their Necks To Show They Are Searching For Love. Here People Pretend That They Aren’t. Searching.

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You Were Just A Boy On A Bed In A Room, Like A Kaleidoscope Is A Tube Full Of Bits Of Broken Glass. But The Way I Saw You Was Pieces Refracting The Light, Shifting Into An Infinite Universe Of Flowers And Rainbows And Insects And Planets, Magical Dividing Cells, Pictures No One Else Knew.

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After His Kisses And Hugs It Feels Like Without Them My Body Will Fall Apart Into Pieces.

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I Stand Here Waiting. To Disappear Or Sing.

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You Have To Make Your Own Family, Your Own Life.

We Both Believe In Monsters. But All The Ghosts And Demons Are You. And All The Angels And Genies Are You. All The Kings, Queens, Buddhas, Beautiful Boys. Inside You. No One Can Take Them Away. (missing Angel Juan.)

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You Always Fed Strays And Bent Down To Talk To The Dogs You Met On The Street, Looking Straight Into Their Eyes As If They Were Old Friends. (maybe They Are, You Said. From Another Life.) You Liked To Go To The Pound And Look At Them. You Tried To Send Them Messages Of Comfort. I Couldn’t Go Because I Started Crying The One Time I Tried. All Those Eyes And The Barks Like Sobs.

Writing Is Literally Transformative. When We Read, We Are Changed. When We Write, We Are Changed. It's Neurological. To Me, This Is A Kind Of Magic.

If You Were A Mermaid, You Said, If You Were A Mermaid, I Was The Sea.

Maybe Her Own Tears Were The Poison That Made Her Grow.

A Kiss About Apple Pie A La Mode With The Vanilla Creaminess Melting In The Pie Heat. A Kiss About Chocolate, When You Haven't Eaten Chocolate In A Year. A Kiss About Palm Trees Speeding By, Trailing Pink Clouds When You Drive Down The Strip Sizzling With Champagne. A Kiss About Spotlights Fanning The Sky And The Swollen Sea Spilling Like Tears All Over Your Legs.

My Mother Says That Pain Is Hidden In Everyone You See. She Says Try To Imagine It Like Big Bunches Of Flowers That Everyone Is Carrying Around With Them. Think Of Your Pain Like A Big Bunch Of Red Roses, A Beautiful Thorn Necklace. Everyone Has One.

She Began To Feel Like The Plastic Doll She Had Been Named After, Without Even A Hole Where Her Mouth Was Supposed To Be.

It Was Like When We Were Little Kids And We Played Games On The Ivy-covered Hillside In The Backyard. We Were Warriors And Wizards And Angels And High Elves And That Was Our Reality. If Someone Said, Isn’t It Cute, Look At Them Playing, We Would Have Smiled Back, Humoring Them, But It Wasn’t Playing. It Was Transformation. It Was Our Own World. Our Own Rules.

Love Is The Only Thing We Have To Save Us

Magic Can Be Found In Stolen Moments.

What Shall We Do, All Of Us? All Of Us Oassionate Girls Who Fear Crushing The Boys We Love With Our Mouths Like Caverns Of Teeth, Our Mushrooming Brains, Our Watermelon Hearts?

The True Warrior Isn't Immune To Fear. She Fights In Spite Of It.

Morning. Strawberry Sky Dusted With White Winter Powder Sugar Sun. And Nobody To Munch On It With

He Said That Black Sheeps Express Everyone Else's Anger And Pain. It's Not That They Have All The Anger And Pain-they're Just The Only Ones Who Let It Out. Then The Other People Don't Have To.

Maybe He Was Real. Maybe I'd Made Him Up. Either Way, He Didn't Think I Needed Him Anymore. Maybe He Was Right.

I Didn't Tell Him That What I Was Most Scared Of, Most Haunted By, Was Something I Didn't Understand And Could Never Run Away From. It Was Myself.

You Turned Your Head To Look At Me. Your Eyes Looked So Big In Your Face, So Mysterious — Wide And Flickering Like A Butterfly-wing Mask. When You Saw Me The Wails Turned To Sobs, And Then Just Quieter Heaves Of Your Body. I Held Out My Finger Through The Bars. Then You Reached Out And Curled Your Fingers Around Mine, So Tight. I Knew You Recognized Me. That Was The First Time I Knew I Had A Heart Inside My Body.

Everything Is An Illusion; That Is The Whole Thing About It - Illusion, Immitation, A Mirage. It Makes Me Too Sad. Its Having Like A Good Dream, You Know You Are Going To Wake Up.

Pain Didn't Ever Really Stop, He Thought; It Just Changed Forms.

Love Is A Dangerous Angel.

At First We Raced Through Space, Like Shadows And Light; Her Rants, My Raves; Her Dark Hair, My Blonde; Black Dresses, White. She's A Purple-black African-violet-dark Butterfly And I A White Moth. We Were Two Wild Ponies, Dawn And Midnight, The Wind Electrifying Our Manes And Our Hooves Quaking The City; We Were Photo Negatives Of Each Other, Together Making The Perfect Image Of A Girl.

You Asked Me Who I Thought I Was Before. I Said Maybe I Was A Fish Because I Love Water And You Said, You Thought A Mermaid, Maybe. If You Were A Mermaid, You Said, If You Were A Mermaid, I Was The Sea.

I Try To See The Dark And Light In Everything. This Is My Way Of Comforting Myself When I Am Dealing With Those Emotions.

This Was Not A Fearie Tale. This Was Not The Movies. This Was Life. It Hurt More. It Was Excruciating. It Was Excruciatingly Beautiful.

If Death Is Your Lover, You Don't Got To Be Afraid Ever That He Will Ever Leave You

Once Upon A Time . . . What Time Are We Upon And Where Do I Belong?

Once Upon A Time

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Relieved Because What I Dreaded Most In The Whole World Was Going To Happen And I Wouldn’t Have To Live With It Anymore—the Fear. There Is The Relief Of Finally Not Being Alone And The Relief Of Being Alone When No One Can Take Anything Away From You. Here She Was, My Beautiful Fear. Shiny As Crystal Lace Frost.

Sometimes She Wore Levi's With White-suede Fringe Sewn Down The Legs And A Feathered Indian Headdress, Sometimes Old Fifties' Taffeta Dresses Covered With Poetry Written In Glitter, Or Dresses Made Of Kids' Sheets Printed With Pink Piglets Or Disney Characters.

But Be Careful; Sand Is Already Broken But Glass Breaks. The Shoes Are For Dancing, Not Running Away.

Every Girl Is A Goddess.

Pain Can Give You Sight Or Make You Blind.

War Is Being Reminded That You Are Completely At The Mercy Of Death At Every Moment, Without The Illusion That You Are Not. Without The Distractions That Make Life Worth Living.

I Wrote Poetry From The Time I Could Write. That Was The Only Way I Could Begin To Express Who I Was But The Poems Didn't Make Sense To My Teachers. They Didn't Rhyme. They Were About The Wind Sounds, The Planets' Motions, Never About Who I Was Or How I Felt. I Didn't Think I Felt Anything. I Was This Mind More Than A Body Or A Heart. My Mind Photographing The Stars, Hearing The Wind.

Think Of Your Pain Like A Bunch Of Red Roses, A Beautiful Thorn Necklace. Everyone Has One.

Under The Pink Harlequin Sunglasses Strawberry Dangling Charms, And Sugar-frosted Eyeshadow She Was Really Almost Beautiful.

I Dont Know About Happily Ever After... But I Know About Happily, Weetzie Bat Thought.

Happily Ever After

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