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"That was quick," Joe says from the other side of my city. Time moves faster when you're singing to the girl waiting at the stoplight in the next car over. I'm cold and ugly and she drives off.
I spent the night considering everything that has happened to me in the last few years. My head was so full and Requiem... topped it off. It seems like such a cop out to blame my issues on a movie, but fuck you for believing me.
I know I'm shit. Now it's up to you.
Concerned for my safety? Should you be?
Most of my body comes with a parental advisory sticker. I've got a gaping wound in my mind. Can you help? You're infected but do you really have it in you?
Despite what I like to tell myself, a woman would not fix me and my problems. I want to talk to my girls. Everyone I knew. I've been over it a billion times. It's always better than the really thing.
I NEED broken ribs. I'm begging the world to hit me with a car.
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scarce
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