mother, the curtains are turning black and the boy I love will burry me in the pile that his sweaters belong and the termites eat the floor under our feet. father told me I would walk the **** side but all I want is those loving thoughts the birds and the bees have given me and my teacher told me that God is where our life is placed but the star dust and the revolution of planets seems so much more real than those snakes demonizing that poor girl who swings on her tire swing with her ghosts that share their thoughts about who's the biggest ***** in the town and maybe, just maybe, mother will say I love you and the door will remain white from all the truth it has told from behind those knobs and walls and the black curtains will fade to nothing as if the sun has never shone and that boy will cry himself to sleep with the thought of a gun and those stupid ******* birds will sing once more without a care in the world but they truly want to see the world explode, that's what their whole ******* chatter is all about.