vii.

I was 10 when I thought
seven years from then I would marry
a super blinding-kind-of-rich 82
year old
dying
man.
It was a normal thought.
He would be sitting
on a park bench.
It would be
a calm afternoon.
I would sit
beside him and we would
share a heaven-like
smile. We
would talk
about warmth
and love
and life
and death
and hope and I
would remind him
of the sweet old days
when his deceased wife
was still
together
with him.
He would love me
like crazy but I
would never
do. I would just
pretend and
gain his family's
trust and wait
for him
to die.
I would be filthy rich
at such a young
age.
And, once again, it was a normal thought.
I swear it was a normal thought.

What's funny
is
today is the
day
said and I
can't
even
talk
to
people.