Our Song
5.27.98

I wanna put all the CDs in the wrong cases and just throw them in a pile on the floor.  Breaking my lamps over that in a fit of rage.  Dismantling my bed and swinging from the ceiling fixture I fall, cut up.  I jump to grab my candles to burn wax into my eyes.  I don't want to see you.  I feel for your photo.  Spitting on it, I add it to the pile.  I step on a CD covered in blood and in tears.  I play it.  It's TONIC.  Our song.  Oh God.   I scream (joyfully so as not to make you worry- God forbid) and light my waxy eyes on fire, falling into the mass and dying...while singing our song...
to you.

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