the marrow in your bones

"always learn poems by heart," she said. "they have to become the marrow in your bones. like fluoride in water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay." - white oleander

and so, i shall begin this feat. and what better poem to start with than my favorite, t.s. eliot's the love song of j. alfred prufrock? cheers to me, and wish me luck.

whats in my head (these days): everyone has a story. and everyone's story is different. take everything with a grain of salt.