Yesternight, I drank much ***.
Suffice to say, it was much fun.
But today I pay the awful price,
Of a dented wallet, and swollen eyes.

What babe.
The babe with the power.
What power?
The power of voodoo.
Who do?
You do!
You remind me of the babe!

She and He
sittin' in a tree
k-i-s-s-i-n-g

Her and He
under'n' altar
m-a-r-r-i-e-d

He and She
here n' there
t-a-l-k-i-n-g

Her and She
over He
f-i-g-h-t-i-n-g

Her and He
holdin' She
c-r-y-i-n-g

She and He
sittin' in a tree
k-i-s-s-i-n-g

Red
the color of passion.
Love and Beauty.
Hate and Bloodshed.

Do you remember the red dress?
The one I wore the last day I saw you.

Gosh, I love you.

I talk about you often.
I think about you constantly.
I gaze at the only picture I have left of you
that hasn't been burned, torn, trashed, or deleted.

I talk about how much of a **** you were to me.
I think about how you called me a lesbian and unattractive everytime I look at my hair.
I gaze at the picture of us as little kids, sitting together on your porch swing.
I think about how you're different from those days.
And I wonder about the things we might do if we ever see each other again.

Somehow after eight years, I'm still horribly in love with you.


It is probably a good thing that I can't see you anymore.

I like the way ink runs across paper,
typing is cold, unfamiliar, and unfeeling.