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I write. I act. I like glitter a little too much and live inside my head. Its pretty there. :)

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Just a little champagne by Cambria Covell

“Just a little champagne” by Cambria Covell
The champagne had flowed steadily all night it seemed with a new bottle popping open every minute or so. The jazz singer crooned a sad tune about a girl who had lost her lover to the river, while couples clung together as if they were afraid if they pulled apart the other might vanish. Gay laughter came from hidden corners where secrets were whispered lowly into ears and things were done in the shadows that shouldn’t have been done. Smoke hovered in the air like a blanket covering the room. From a corner a girl watched, observing it all, wishing to take part of it but never having the nerve to. She stayed in her seat with only her glass of champagne and a cigarette to keep her company.
The girl had earlier in the evening accepted that was to be her fate for the night when no one took notice of her despite the new dress she wore and the new hair cut she had gotten.
“Excuse me,” someone said, causing her to look up from the drink that she’d been staring into. Standing there in front of her was a tall, skinny, young man with slicked back hair and a fine suit that seemed to fit him like a glove. “But you seem to be the only one not having a ball tonight. Would you care to dance?” He smiled at her which she whole heartedly returned. Then she took the hand that he held out and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Bookstores by Cambria Covell

She hadn’t gone into the bookstore looking for anything in particular. It was just that as all book lovers know, it was impossible for her to pass up a book shop when she saw one. Upon entering the jingling sound of a bell overhead announced her entrance which made her smile as did the smell of aging paper and dust.
The store itself was small but endless. It was covered in shelves that lined the walls going from top to bottom with books in every nook and cranny. As she browsed she found titles that were as dear to her as old friends things like Pride and Prejudice, as well as The Great Gatsby, and a copy of Mrs. Dalloway which was so old that its cover was taped together to keep it from falling off.
She reached for a copy of a book that she had never heard of before and was surprised when she pulled it back to find someone there that had also been reaching for the same book. It was a beautiful boy with high cheek bones, dark hair that went into his eyes, and his lips curved into a smile.
“Hello,” said the boy.
“Hello,” she replied, smiling as well because she had a feeling that she had found just what she was looking for.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Gone by Cambria Covell

Together we lay in the grassy field under the velvet night sky and stared up at the stars. His large hand intertwined with my small one, covering it whole. I rested my head against his chest. The sound of his heart beat going thump, thump, thump lulled me into a peaceful sleep. When I woke, I reached for him to find only air. I was back in my room that I had never left. It was only a dream. The constant ache from being alone because he had been gone for so long was what was real. Even though I wanted to close my eyes and go back to sleep to see if I could dream him up again, I reluctantly got up from my bed to face the day. I couldn’t stop just because he wasn’t there anymore.

Love Songs by Cambria Covell

The girl wore a bright yellow sundress with white ballet flats. Her blond hair was pulled back with a black ribbon while the bike she was peddling on was darkly colored with a wicker basket attached to the handle bars. She peddled down the lane with the sun beating down her back as she hummed a tune she had heard on the radio earlier that day. It had something to do with remembering and love.

Behind her, a young boy followed her on his own bike. He had been watching the girl for quite some time in class and wanted to talk to her. He just could never think of anything to say but that day he managed to pluck up the courage. “Adeline!” he called. The girl didn’t hear him though. She was too busy enjoying her bike ride and her head was too filled with love songs.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Tintype by Cambria Covell

He had fallen in the snow. Or had he been shot? It had been so long ago that he could not remember. The young man only knew that he was too tired to get up so he stayed on the cold, hard ground. There was no more gunfire, or cannon fire, or the sounds of shouts or cries of men ringing out. There was only the stillness of silence which to him was somehow more terrifying than the noise that had erupted on the battlefield not so long ago.

His wool jacket was doing little to keep him warm. The falling snow hit his face with each snow flake feeling like ice piercing through his skin. He tried to think of something else besides the cold or the smell of blood, like copper, that was so strong it overpowered everything else.

Had it really only been just weeks ago that he had signed up, only weeks? It seemed a life time in between the new faces some young, some old that he had met and all the things he had had to learn. Everything was a blur of blue and grey, campfire songs, marching and food that had always had a slight burnt taste to it or had been too cold which made him miss his Mama’s cooking so fiercely it hurt.

The only thing he missed more had been her, the girl he had left behind, who had cried at the river that was in the woods of their town when he’d told her that he was going. The tears had smudged her otherwise pretty, pale face while the sunlight had danced on her golden curls. She had shoved him hard shouting, “Leave! Go on then, leave! And I don’t care if you ever come back.” Then she’d run away and he had let her.

Yet it had been only days after he had marched off to battle when a letter came for him with a tintype enclosed and a two worded letter that was brief and to the point. Come back. It had made him soar for days on end, and the tintype of the girl never left his breast pocket.

He wanted to see it now only he was so cold that he could barely move. If he did it slowly, perhaps he could manage to pull it out so that he could see her face again. He managed to move his arm across his chest then ever so slowly he moved his hand until his fingers finally grasped it.

A smile crossed his face. He had done it. But now he was tired. The movement had taken so much out of him. His eyes started to flutter as he struggled to keep them open but it was useless. He had no more fight in him to keep them open. They closed. It was time to rest. Just for a moment though, just for a moment…then he would see her face again.

Apologies and Coffee by Cambria Covell

The winter wind nipped at her cheeks as she buried herself down into her jacket to keep warm. Her scarf kept on getting blown up in her face much to her annoyance. She had long since given up on stopping it. To make matters worse, her socks were soaked through from her long walk in the snow. Relief filled her when the coffee shop she’d agreed to meet him at earlier came into view.

The girl pushed opened the door. Overhead, there was the sound of a bell jingling announcing her entrance which could still be heard despite the loud, grinding of the coffee beans being crushed by the machine. Lively chatter filled the café which was busy due to the recent cold weather.

Her eyes searched the coffee shop for the boy that she had walked there in the cold to see. He had promised he wouldn’t be late but those promises along with many others were usually empty. When she didn’t see him, she reluctantly went to the counter to order then found a spot in the back to sit down in. She told herself she would only stay for ten minutes then leave if he didn’t come after that because the last time she had waited two hours during which he’d never shown.

She tapped her fingers on the table trying her hardest not to look at the clock on the wall. Just then the bell overhead the door jingled again. Automatically she looked over, prepared to be disappointed.

Only she wasn’t because he was there holding a big, hand written sign with the word SORRY in big, bold lettering. She smiled. All was forgiven.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Happiness by Cambria Covell

Two men stood before me. One was dressed impeccably, in a suit that must have cost a fortune and he was smoking a cigar. The other man was dressed in well worn, humble looking clothes. He had lines on his face, which was tanned from spending so many hours in the sun.
"What do you do?" I asked them both.
The man in the suit smiled. "I work for a firm. I make more money than you could ever imagine. Some of that money I keep and some of it I donate to charity. When I get home I eat dinner by myself, read a book, and then go to sleep."
The other man, the one that was poorly dressed, said, "I'm a farmer. I get up early and I work all day in the fields. By the time I'm finished I'm exhausted but at the end of the day, I sit down to dinner with my wife and family."
"Are you happy?" I asked.
"Yes," they both said.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

A Sort of Magic by Cambria Covell

There once was a boy who had a very gruff father who didn’t believe in nonsense, especially magic. One day when the boy had the nerve to ask why, his father replied sternly, “Look around….there is war, death, famine…the worlds going to the dogs. How can you believe in magic in a place like this?”
The boy thought over his father’s question and he replied, “There is magic in the world. It’s just not what you think. It isn’t so obvious as a dragon or an enchanted mirror. It’s something not everyone has, but those that have it make the world better.”
“What do you mean?” the father asked.
“I mean creativity,” the boy responded, “because you see, story-tellers are in their own way witches and wizards, casting spells over readers or audiences with the right set of words or images. Artists are hypnotists, making things that are too beautiful to look away from. Musicians are sirens, creating music people can’t stop listening to. Actors are shape-shifters changing into people that can either be alive or dead, real or make believe. Creativity is magic father, and as long as we have it the world will be okay.”
His father shook his head and muttered something about “day dreamer” before going off to work and the boy just smiled because he knew he was right. Then he grabbed some pencils and paper from a drawer and went to go make his own sort of magic.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Place of Death by Cambria Covell

The obituary says ‘place of death, Hollywood, California’. It’s such a strange thing to see. Hollywood isn’t the place of death. It’s the city of dreams. People come with nothing but seven dollars or sometimes less than in their wallet and they leave with more money than god. They start off as that girl taking orders or that guy behind the counter and they leave as that face that shines brightly on the silver screen, like a beacon of what things can be. They start off as nothing and end up shooting stars that give people hope and make them want to lose themselves in worlds that don’t exist. It’s the place where James Dean still smokes cigarettes on the sidewalk as he waits to cross and Marilyn Monroe still walk the streets, blowing kisses at passersby. It is the place of dreams, hopes, fears and false immortality but it shouldn’t be the place of death.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Old Friends by Cambria Covell

Another body, the old man thought wearily with a sigh as he stopped his digging for a moment and rested against his shovel. After all of these years he should have been used to it. Death was something that couldn’t be stopped. Though death was what kept him employed that didn’t mean that he liked it any more than the next person.
Off in the distance, an owl hooted as it woke up with the moon that was rising. He could hear the crickets chirping and the sound of the cars from the high way as they made their way to their destinations. He sighed and forced himself to keep on digging.
For a while the only sound he heard was of his shovel picking up the dirt and dropping it six feet down. Then he heard the snapping of a twig, causing him to jump. Shock shot through him and he clutched at his heart in fear. “Jesus!” the old man exclaimed, dropping his shovel to the ground.
“Not quite,” said an amused voice.
The man looked up and found himself staring at a very good looking gentleman in his early twenties. He was dressed impeccably in a fine suit and reminded the man a bit of that film star he used to idolize when he was younger, Carey Grant. The man noticed then that the air had stilled and the grasshoppers were quieting. He stared at the younger gentleman as though he were meeting a challenge.
Neither of the two would speak first. So they just stood there, sizing the other up. “So this is to be it then?” the old man asked.
“Indeed,” the younger replied.
“Can I at least finish my job?”
“Your job is finished.”
The old man looked at the grave and he found himself staring at the body that had formally been his. Then he looked to his partner. “Would you mind?”
“Ah, yes,” said the young man. He bent down and grabbed the shovel that was on the floor then dropped it gently into the grave. Then he looked towards his companion. “Are you ready?”
The old man chuckled. “I’ve been ready for years, you could say.”
His partner laughed as well, dryly, and then together they started walking out of the cemetery.

Things no one knows by Cambria Covell

There are things no one knows
There are things no one knows
Whisper the ghosts
Whisper the ghosts
There are things no one knows
There are things no one knows
Cry the crows
Cry the crows
There are things no one knows

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Good riddance by Cambria Covell

High above the castle is the dead enemies head sitting on a pike
His eyes were plucked out that morning by an eagle that attacked it that night
Now the eagle flies nearby and lets out a cry that sounds like it says
Goodbye, good riddance and goodbye
The eagle lets out a cry
Goodbye, good riddance and goodbye

It is by Cambria Covell

It breaks your walls
It makes you fall
It makes you dream
It makes you scream
It makes you want to keep on breathing (or stop)
It’s there if the moons up
It’s there if the suns down
It’s a play
It’s a movie
It’s an old photograph
It’s the family’s pet dog or your old stuffed animal
It’s the lyrics to an old pop song you can’t get out of your mind
It’s the ticking of the clock as your waiting for that promised phone call
It’s a note on the fridge reminding you to smile
It makes you believe in things like fantasy, heroes, knights, happily-ever-after and prince charming
It builds you up and tears you down
It’s your friend
Your enemy
Your mother, sister, father, and your brother
It annoys, it destroys
It’s humanizing, equalizing, true, first, fast, broken
Obsessive, sometimes violent, and unrequited
It is the beginning
It is the middle
It is the end
It is love

Four letters by Cambria Covell

It’s a simple, four letter word
It’s very small and overused
But I’ve been thinking lately I’d be a fool if I at least didn’t try to say
I need you to stay
Please come back and don’t you ever, ever go away
Please come back and don’t you ever, ever go away
You see I haven’t been sleeping
And I’m not eating lately and the doctors can’t explain it
So they keep on putting pills down me
But it isn’t a pill that will fix things
So I’m asking you please stay
Please come back and don’t you ever, ever go away
It’s a simple, four letter word
It’s very small and overused
But I’d be a fool if I didn’t try and ask you to stay

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Things the books see by Cambria Covell

Lanny Brentwood shrugged off her soaking, wet coat as she walked into her university’s campus library. She felt like a drowned rat. Inside the room was dimly lit and the lights were flickering due to the thunderstorm that was going on outside. There weren’t many student’s willing to brave the weather that day in order to go and study so that left Lanny alone with the rows of books and tables that were empty for the most part except for the two others.
“Nothing like being stuck in a boring library on a Saturday,” she said.
She took her seat at one of the many empty desks and pulled out her studying materials. Her exam on Hamlet was tomorrow and she still couldn’t make sense of half of what the Danish prince was ranting about.
“Freaking Shakespeare,” she muttered under her breath as she opened up her worn copy of the play then took out her study guide. About fifteen minutes in to her study session, her phone vibrated alerting her that she had a text.
It was from Matt, her boyfriend of two years. Come out with us.
She sighed. Lanny hadn’t seen him much since finals and if she cancelled on him it would be the third time that week. She glared at her book before texting back that she was studying and would try to see him tomorrow. He texted back a sad face and Lanny just shook her head before returning to her work.
As she attempted to translate the “To be or not to be” monologue into modern English, Lanny felt like her head was going to explode. Worse she’d been staring at the same line for far too long. Her throat was feeling dry so she got up and went down the hall to go and get a drink from the water fountain.
She took a quick sip and then she went back to her studying table. She was surprised to see that she was the only one left. Was it her imagination or were the lights dimmed too? Lanny shook her head and went back to doing her homework. She was going to finish her work eventually and then she’d stop spending all her time in that one building.
She went back to her studying only when she was in the middle of writing something she heard the sound of crashing books, causing her to jump. Curious she went to go and see where the noise had come from. When she found the aisle where the books had fallen she was surprised to see a very familiar face standing there looking incredibly guilty.
Lanny couldn’t help but laugh. “Matt!”
“You’re not going to yell at me for hurting the books are you? Because that would make me feel bad since I came all the way over to see you.”
She shook her head and walked over to give him a kiss. “Thanks. Now the library won’t be so boring after all.”

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

For the rest of his days by Cambria Covell

There’s a ghost that haunts the riverside
But he wasn’t there last night
Don’t worry he doesn’t deserve any sympathy
He did something’s to me and I put him in jail
I found out yesterday that he made bail
He stopped by for a visit, just to say hi
When he left he was dead and his clothes weren’t dry
I took him down to the river and there he’ll stay
Yes there he’ll stay for the rest of his days

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Hundred Acre Wood by Cambria Covell

I’d like to stay in the hundred acre wood
Because there it’s all about laughing, playing, honey and the simple things
But eventually we’ve all got to leave behind the hundred acre wood and the place of Winnie the pooh and childhood days
We’ve got to grow up, see the world, and experience new things
But someday when I’m old and tired I’ll go back to the hundred acre wood
And I’ll get to live in a place where it’s all about honey and the simple things

Monday, April 18, 2011

I just had to say by Cambria Covell

You walked me home like the gentleman you’ve always been
Now we’re standing by the door and I’m wishing for something more than just a kiss on a cheek
You say goodnight to me and turn to leave
Then I just breathe deep and say
Stop and wait please
There’s something I’ve got to confess because it’s been keeping me awake for days and days
I love you, I honestly do
I’ve loved you for longer than I care to say from the playground to our high school days
And I know you’ll tell me we’re just friends
And I know there’s someone else and you’ll go home to her in the end
I just had to say
I love you, I honestly do
I’ve loved you from the playground to our high school days
I just had to say

Sunday, April 17, 2011

I was a teenage fairy

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a GIRL caught in a grown-up WORLD of SUPERSTARS and SUPERMODELS, a glitz-and-glamour web of SECRETS and LIES.
This is the story of Barbie Marks, who dreams o being the one behind the camera, not some barely flesh-and-blood version of the plastic doll she was named after. It is the story of Griffin Tyler, whose androgynous beauty hides the dark pain within him. And finally, it is the story of mab, a pinkie-sized, magenta-haired, straight-talking fairy who may or may not be real.

First things first. Let me say that I am a HUGE Francesa Lia Block fan as you might have noticed. The quote in underneath my header is by her, my button is a picture from one of her covers, and a few weeks ago I bought Kisses from Hell just because it had a story from her in it. I can't help it. She is amazing. She paints such vivid images with her writing and makes even something like the city of Los Angeles feel like a place of fairy tales. I adore The Weetzie Bat series by her but sadly don't have copies of it. The only book of hers I have a copy of is I was a teenage fairy which is a story of growing up to fast, finding yourself, and the consequences of that. Blocks character Barbie is a girl that despite everything still tries her hardest to enjoy life along with her fiesty sidekick fairy friend Mab and it isn't until her past shows up again that she truly freaks out about it.Only instead of sulking,she takes matters into her own hands. This story is one of those that sticks with you long after you read it. Although I should warn you its definitely for a more mature audience.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Thoughts on an old crush by Cambria Covell

The picture is from the television show One Tree Hill. Back when Lucas and Peyton were on it and I actually liked it.

I should stop
I should think
I should collect my head before I go there
It was just a little thing
It happened such a long time ago
It was nothing really just a little thing
Still the thought of seeing him again makes me feel fifteen
And small
And I start to stammer and blush and slouch
And then I remember I am not that person anymore
I am strong
I am tall
And I might not have it all just yet
But give me time and I’m going to get it
And he shouldn’t affect me anymore
He’s the one that lost
He’s just an old crush
And he’s never going to have it all

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

In my skin by Cambria Covell (excuse the profanity)

Here I am again sitting on the kitchen floor and I can’t seem to pick myself up
Six feet under once more
Not quite yet because I’m still breathing but sometimes it feels like it
You make me feel lower than low
You make me feel like I’m nothing and you tell me I’m a piece of shit
I shouldn’t take it personally
But you’re permanently in my skin and I can’t shake your words off
They’re tattooed into me and stuck in my head like a bad song
I’d like to make you feel lower than low
I’d like to tell you that you were nothing more but a piece of shit
I’d like you to take it personally
And I’d like to rip every part of you from my skin
I’d like to tell you to go visit the devil who we all know is your old friend
and for you stay where he is buried deep down and lower than low
and I’d like to tell you your nothing more than a piece of shit
But I won’t because you’re in my skin

A dog-eared page by Cambria Covell

I am a dog-eared page
Some people don’t like me
Some people do
I am their place holder
I am a pause in the conversation between Elizabeth and Darcy
I stop the kiss between Scarlett and Rhett
I am a reminder to the reader to come back and pick up where they left off again
I can be folded, and unfolded
Some people say a dog-eared page is a sign of misuse
Poor book, poor abused book they say
But I personally think a dog eared page is a sign of a well loved book
A book that has been read time and time again over the ages
I am a dog-eared page

Darkest Mercy

The Summer King is missing; the Dark Court is bleeding; and a stranger walks the streets of Huntsdale, his presence signifying the deaths of powerful fey.

Aislinn tends to the Summer Court, searching for her absent king and yearning for Seth. Torn between his new queen and his old love, Keenan works from afar to strengthen his court against the coming war. Donia longs for fiery passion even as she coolly readies the Winter Court for battle. And Seth, sworn brother of the Dark King and heir to the High Queen, is about to make a mistake that could cost his life.

Love, despair, and betrayal ignite the Faery Courts, and in the final conflict, some will win . . . and some will lose everything.

The thrilling conclusion to Melissa Marr's New York Times bestselling Wicked Lovely series will leave readers breathless.

I absolutely adore the Wicked Lovely series. Typically, fairies are portrayed in a Disneyfied way. I never really could stand that being a huge fan of A Midsummer Nights Dream. So the Wicked Lovely series was a refreshing change, plus it got me into the real folkore about the fae. Plus this blog IS called wittyheroine, meaning I like strong, smart (and of course witty) female leads. This series is chalk full of them. Darkest Mercy is the last book in the series and focuses mostly on Donia but like with Marrs other books she tries to give almost all of her characters a chance to speak. Melissa Marr ends her series beautifully and makes her characters grow. I found myself liking characters I hadn't really before and cheering on couples I never thought would work. Simply put, the book is pure awesomeness.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

If only by Cambria Covell

I felt inspired when looking at this picture. Resulted in the poem below.
In a world of light and shadows
Lovers meet under starlit skies to whisper about dreams, kiss, slow dance and sigh
A girl in a tree watches with envious eyes
All she can do is sigh away the night
And hope that sometime soon she’ll meet a lover underneath starlit skies and have someone to whisper her dreams to, kiss her, dance with, and sigh
Now if only her story started with once upon a time
Her dream might not be so far from reality

Monday, April 11, 2011


Morgan Rowlands never thought she was anything other than a typical sixteen-year-old girl. But when she meets Cal, a captivatingly handsome coven leader, she makes a discover that turns her whole world upside down: she is a witch, descended from an ancient and powerful line. And so is Cal. Their connection is immediate and unbreakable; Cal teases out MorganÕs power, her love, her magick. But Morgan discovers too soon that her powers are strongÑalmost too powerful to control. And she begins to suspect that Cal may be keeping secrets from her . . . secrets that could destroy them both.
When looking for something to read over my spring break, I re-visited a series that I had first found in middle school. It was the book series that introduced me to paranormal romance (not that I knew it was called that then). Anyway upon re-reading the series I fell completely in love with it all over again. Cate Tiernans writing completely immerses you in the story. Despite the magic element, the characters are realistic. They're characters you'd expect to find at a high school but not in a cheesy sort of way. Its the perfect read for fans of Charmed or The Vampire Diaries. Plus they've started to release omnibus editions of the series so you can get three books in one for about eight or seven dollars depending on the store. So if you're looking for a good read check it out.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Kisses from Hell anthology

Summary: This irresistible collection features stories of love and vampires by five of today's hottest authors-Kristen Cast (Tempted), Richelle Mead (Vampire Academy), Alyson Noel (Evermore), Kelley Armstrong (The Summoning), and Francesca Lia Block (Pretty Dead).
From a fugitive vampire forced to trust a boy who might work for the group bent on destroying her to the legendary romance of two immortals whose love compels them to risk everything, this heart-pounding collection brings new meaning to the words "love you forever". Whether you're into romances that are dark and moody or light and fun, these stories will quench that insatiable thirst for enchanting tales of the undead.

Kisses from Hell is an anthology of both fun and dark stories all involving the vampire in some shape or form. While each of the stories have something that stand out about them if you're looking to truly get scared perhaps the creepiest of the stories is Lilith by Francesa Lia Block. It will leave you thinking about it long after you finish reading it. Another one I was presently surprised by was Alyson Noel's Bring Me to Life. Having read Evermore, I was expecting something similiar. What Noel creates is a fun but at the same time creepy short story that embraces all things Gothic lit. Being a huge Bronte fan, I completely loved it. All in all if your looking for some new, fun vampire stories to read this is definitely something to check out.

Friday, April 8, 2011


So I've been writing a lot. In this one story in particular, I was pretty sure I had everything plotted out. Then suddenly this new idea came and I realized it was the one I needed to make everything fall into place. Its happened with characters too. Characters have started up one way and then ended up completely different from how I imagine them to be. Its one of the many things I love about writing. So tell me do you like when your story takes you completely by surprise or does it frustrate you?

Thursday, April 7, 2011

We've all been on one by Cambria Covell

City lights flashing by while driving
Music blaring and loud off-key singing
Fast food bags on the floor but no one cares
Bobbing your head to the music laughing at passerbyers stares
Talking nonsense to stay awake during late night driving
One more hour stuck in traffic
Round the bend
Get out to stretch
Run inside, turn on the lights
Home sweet home
A long, fun drive

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

My old friend by Cambria Covell

He comes to me when I least want him
He's the taunting voice inside my head
Sometimes he makes me want to give in
I want to agree when he tells me
You're not good enough
You're a failure, a miserable failure
I tell him to go to hell
Then at midnight he comes around again
like a fungus that keeps on spreading
and just won't die
He's cruel, bitter, and leaves a bad taste in my mouth
I love him
I hate him
He pushes me around until I am black and blue
They say I should forget him
I tell them I know
But something inside me needs him
and besides, there is no getting rid of my old friend Doubt
Belongs to Cambria Covell.