“If only I could cry. I am beyond that. The light, the light, lending itself to empty downtown Saturday, but still the stupid insensate cars flush by oblivious to their stupidity, my silent plea. It isn't Mexico. It's not Paris.… — Maryse Holder Copy Share Image
“Writing to you is like some embarrassing remake of Waiting For Godot. Why don't you jerk off on paper in my direction, as I've… — Maryse Holder Copy Share Image
“If only I could cry. I am beyond that. The light, the light, lending itself to empty downtown Saturday, but still the stupid insensate… — Maryse Holder Copy Share Image
“As soon as whatever provisional well of confidence dries up, I will feel like a frightened motherless child. And I will—what? Lessee, I'll beg… — Maryse Holder Copy Share Image
“All I want is some man to take delight in me. 5:30? 6:30 A.M. as usual, no cigs. Better a maudlin drunk than a… — Maryse Holder Copy Share Image
“That was the next-to-last time I felt any desire. And he was pale and tall (how disgusting tall men are, such a waste of… — Maryse Holder Copy Share Image
