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Michael Kusi Nov 2017
General Tso.
The staple of the community
First we liked hot sauce.
Then we liked fried chicken.
Now we liked them married together
I mean, marinated together.

General Tso’s Chicken.
It is what is on every kids lips
When he goes to certain restaurants.
But I wonder about this General Tso
If he could be real.
He can’t be real.
Because I heard he fed his General Tso’s Chicken
To his men.
And that is how they named it.
I thought, then he must be a turncoat.
Judas Iscariot as general.
Because there is no way anyone can fight
With General Tso’s Chicken in them.

You don’t feel like taking up arms.
You feel like putting your arms down.
To lie down and sleep
As the enemy is charging.
And as soon as you finish eating
You feel hungry again.
I guess General Tso did his job.
The question is, for which side?
Patrick Raven Feb 2012
two orders

black pepper chicken

with fried rice instead of white rice

also

one order of General Tso chicken

and Crab Ragoons

with 2 cokes

and I’m using cash

forty minutes?

okay, thank you.
Verdae Geissler Jun 2013
I met a girl when she picked me up while  I was hitch hiking back from the health food store.

Her name is, well, I’ll call her “Mirror”. She was seventeen, with three different colors in her hair,and she was driving this great big mafioso looking thing down an old country road.

AND she picked me, a hitch hiker, up. like it was it was no big thing to her.

My first response after the normal howdy do’s, was;” Okay, first off, we are on this desolate back road, in the middle of BFE ,and corn fields forever. How do you know that I am not going to pull out a gun or a knife and slit your throat, or blow you away for your ride, or WORSE?”

She snickered and said,”Cause’ I can tell .”You aren’t that kind of person!”

My responsewas ,”How can you even  pretend to know THAT?”

She comes back with; “I can just tell”!

“Anyway, aren’t you glad I picked you up?’

“Of course!” I said, “but you need to be more careful!”

She dropped me at my house, and that was that.

I was left with hoards of memories sweeping my mind. Memories of myself at her age, along with her responses to my concern, and her total disposition, I knew I was staring into a mirror of my past!

I would, for sure, be seeing her again!

It was approx. two weeks later that I saw her, in a little mustang, as I was walking my dog on that same old road.

She pulled of as she turned the stereo down, I think it was blasting some new girl band, “Hey girlfriend” she says with this sweet little sideways glance, as if she’d known me for a lifetime, “whatcha up to?”

Having done the small talk thing, we decided ot hang out.
So she came over to the house, we talked.
As I got to know her situation a bit better, I knew.
... I was looking into the mirror of my past once more.
I had been placed into her life for a very special mission.

I also knew in my heart that, according to what she was telling me, she was headed for the same path of disaster and destruction, I had, not so long ago, put my own self  through.
It had all started at her exact age. but I did not, at this point know what to do about helping her.
...But it would come! ...yes, it would!

I found out, a little more than a year later, i could not have done anything to stop it from happening, when I met her. ...In her beginning...
It was during the “aftermath” or the “beginning of the end”, where I would be called back into her life to “play my part” so to speak.
So...
It was about a month ago, I just happened to be browsing through a thrift store, in Spruce Pine, with my neighbor. As I stood there, looking at an old quilt I wanted, but could not afford, I heard that  soft, sweet, little voice call me by my name.

”Romy?’ “Is that yooouuuu?!”
“*** I can’t believe it!”,
.....and so on and so forth.

My sweet friend from the road by my house, was there, was handing out Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Mind you, I knew what this meant...
...She’d gotten herself into some kind of trouble.
And now, she was doing community service for it.

Sure enough she had.

I gave her my  telephone number, and that was that.

It was about three days ago when I got a phone call.
It was her.
She asked if she could come by to see me that afternoon, after school.
She needed to talk.
She actually did come on by.

Here we are some years later. I am scared.
Not for myself , physically, but something told me my time was up.
The gig was up.
The angels had finally found a way.
For me.
For her.

Now.
I need to back up to two years ago, so that you can get a real sense
of what is really going on here…..

After our first meeting, after she came back by my trailer,  in the cow pasture, the first time,
She hung with me the whole summer, and then into fall.
I got to know her parents very well.
I n their eyes I'd become a big sister/baby sitter for her.
She thought of it as just hanging out.
...a place away from her Dad, but close to her home.
She had never been with a boy, she explained,
but she'd made an attempt at a relationship with a girl at school, which turned out disastrous.
It even landed here in trouble at school, with the cops, and with the DSS, here in Yancey County.
(a place no one would ever want to land!)

Her mom was going through chemo and radiation, and so was I.
I was uncanny.
I had at least SOMETZHING, one thing, in common with almost every member of her family.
I became part of her family!

I knew from my own life and my experiences,  
she was dabbling in some kind of drug activity.
I just did not know what at first.

Made myself a promise.
I would find out what was really going on with t his girl.

Once I got her to open up to me.
I discovered she was stealing her dad’s 40mg Oxycontin and his 1mg klonapin out of his locked box.
This only AFTER he'd been giving them to her when she turned fourteen.
She was not only snorting them, but she was selling them as well!

I also did some digging, and found, she was getting in with some pretty savory characters.
Of course it wan't long, before she met this guy...
He was handsome, manipulative, and cunning.
But most of all, he had a raging monkey, the size of Detroit, on his back!

Only I could see him for the ****** ******* he really was.
I tried many tricks to expose him.
Her partents were blinded by his enamering.
His story was easy:
..he had been in the military, only to come home to a trailer trash wife, on drugs, of course, who had neglected their four year old child.
He'd come home just in time to play the knight in all his armour....!
I KNEW better!

But when I tried to warn her parents
they would hear nothing of it!
They refused to see in him
the evil that i could....

So when she started seeing him, I went to her parents with my premonitions.
They told me I was over  reacting.
And that i had become attached to their daughter, that I should just stay away for a while.
Her mom’s exact words were:
”I mean really, Romy...
" He is a MARINE for goodness sakes... !"
"... and the only reason he is home right now, is to save that yungin' from his drug addicted mother!”

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I had to let go....

Only years later, it would come out,
To her parents and everyone.
...He was a **** and dilaudid ******.
His mother was one, as well.
They used the little boy for food and money,
as well as their own selfish adgenda of feeding
that monkey from Detroit,
and the disease he brought with him.
They conned everyone from welfare, to  churches, to the department of Social Services.

I remember a conversation a had with her mom, while trying to get her to realize what he really was.
It went like this:
mom: “How could you even say such things about him!”
I never said another word.
Only
In my mind I was screaming;
"Because I know this *******!
He is addicted to drugs!  
He told me so, in the beginning!
He bragged to me about how he’d been doing dilaudid with his MOTHER for years.
And, all  of us junkies know, the only way to do dilaudid, is to shoot it up in your veins!

"*******!”"
I said to myself.

"PLUS, I even know his  other name."
"THE NAME is Daniel!"

"I know him well!"
"I ruined most of my young life trying to win his love."
"Only I did not know then what  I was up against...."
"This addiction was more powerful than another woman, or anything else, for that matter!"

"There IS no match
  for it!"

...I was screaming this all to myself.
...I knew then.
I was talking about my own life experience.
The years I spen, hurting myself, all the while attempting to impress my first, and truest love of my entire life.
He almost proved to be the ruin of me!
...The man on whom I waisted more than half of my life!
He, who became the beginning of my end!
He was the beginning of a lifetime of  ****** addiction, tears, disappointments, lies, and horror!

As I saw it, he and this ******* were one in the same.

More importantly, I also knew, in my heart of hearts, he would be the beginning of  HER end.
He would prove to be the beginning of her  horror.
I also knew, if she were to end up staying with this nobody *******, for any length of time, she would, inevitebly begin sticking needles in her arms.
My bet would be she'd start within one year.

Sadly,  I was correct.
she was,
and had been,
sticking needles in her arm.

The way I found out went down like this:
(and thus my reason for writing this)

She phoned me, upset, and crying.
Don't ask me how, but I knew she was dope sick.
...Perhaps it was the quiver in her voice.
The desperation.
A feeling I knew all too well.

I told her to come over.
She did.
I'll never forget.
She was working at Mc Donald's, to pay her way through cosmetolegy school.
So she still had that Mc Donald's uniform on. (The one, I knew, she loathed with every part of her being!)
And bless her heart...
...She brought me a pie.

I told her she looked like ****.
Then I asked her to explain why she'd gone so long without having any contact with me.
(although I knew the answers to each of my questions, I asked them anyway.)

I gave her motherly/sisterly hugs, while attemting to make her feel loved.
(something she had not experienced often, at least, not without a price!)

I needed her to know, that no matter what she had to offer , for the time I hadn't heard from her, I would love her, and I would help her, and I would hold her, until she needed me to let go.

So.
It was after hugs, love, some understanding eye contact, I made the promise of understanding. She had to know, that  no matter what she might reveal, I would ALWAYS be in her corner. I would always be hers. I would be whatever she needed me to be.
..As long as I was helping her towards her self understanding,  towards love, and  towards happiness.

It was a few seconds after our long embrace and our moment of connection and understanding, when she took me into the bathroom.
She uttered these words, nervously, and with shame;
”Romy, Do you really want to know how bad I've gotten, how far I have now fallen?”
...Or perhaps her words were, in actuallity, more like "Romy, look at how bad this has gotten."
I am not sure which of the two is more correct, but I got the message loud and clear, and my heart broke.
Litererally, it broke into a million pieces.
My heart broke for her, but it also broke for the girl I once was, before my own demons came to visit.

I knew then, from the depths of my being,
how the scene would play out...
I knew the ending,
before it ever began.

In a moment I will share with you, the dialog that went on between us on that cold, cloudy, winter afternoon in Nowheresville, NC.
This is one conversation I shall, forever, remember until I take my final breath.
It will remain with me through lifetimes to come.
...It has become a part of me.

ME: ”So. have you learned how to do yourself?”
“Or is that why you are here?”
"If it  is the later, you've come to the wrong place."

She started to cry.

"I know how to hit myslef", she said.
H uge tears runnig down her face.
"You warned me, Romy." "And I didn't listen."
"How DID you know, anyway?"

I could not hold back the tears.  
They poured straight from the depths of my being.
Again, he I stood, once again, in front this georgous girl, who was destroying herself!
Again, all I could see was myself in the mirror!

I have yet to felt such a sadness within me, as the one I felt at that moment.

As she rolled up her sleeve, there it was...
a site too familiar..
Uncanny, it was.
How could this girl be the SAME?
Seriously!
...The same arm.
...The same hole.
...The same sore.
...The same color.
..The same sad and bewidered expresion.
It said. No, it screamed;
"Help me please! I'm so ******* gone!"
"Help me please!"
" You're all I've got!"

I wanted to turn and run a fast and far as I could get.
Heer she stood in front of me
Here she stood.
The exact ******* same as me.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't think.
I wanted to puke.
She
was
MEEEE!

The silence was broken by her voice, and by her expression.
She obviously saw my transition from a strong woman who cared so much,
into a womean who had turned white as a ghost.
Then she asked;
” How did you know, Romy?”
“How ever COULD you have known?”

I did not.
I could not.
Begin to answer her then.

But I thought to myself;
"How could I not?"

I left that tiny bathroom not knowing WHAT to do, or what to say.
I, for once,was at a loss.
For the first time in my life,
the words  would just not come!

I couldn't speak my usual words of incourgment.

Until she came to me, and gave me a hug.

...she has just left my house.
My heart is heavy.
She'd  come to me today, for reasons,
she herself,
could never have understood.

I went into my bedroom, whee she sat.
I asked her what she'd been up to that made her decide to call me.
She said she did not know.
She'd been out driving after work,
and so she'd just ended up calling.
Now she was at my place.

I shared with her the importance of truthfulness.
With oneself even more than with others.

Then I shared with her my story, and my reasons for caring so very much for  her well being.

I told her about the mirror I saw between us from the beginning.
..of my battle with herion addiction.
But I told her  also of the stubborn dream I'd carried with me for eighteen years because of a guy, just like hers.
I answered all of her questions.
I completed her sentences.
She completed some of mine.
I felt her heart breaking.
And I helped her to let go.

She was so shocked at what I shared with her, about myself,
and about my own life,
that it  literally brought her back to her self. I had somehow, reached her inner being.
She was able to return to her own reality, away from the deceit.
And away from the web of lies which had been woven around her.

I feel good!
I feel like she will be alright.

May hope is, through me, she was able to see how easily we can fall into someone else's need and addiction. How we make it our own by allowing someone elses demons drag us down, down into oblivion, and how their misery can, so easily, consume us. Then take over our very life!
IF we let it!

....I held her for a long time.
We cried together.
I cried for her.

I also cried for me.

I cried for the girl that I once was.

...Before Daniel.
                              ...Before Manhattan.
                                                      ­                                                
                                                                ­       ...Before the misery.

She cried her own tears for herself,
her kind heart,
and for what would never be.
She cried, grateful tears, knowing now she will no tso easily loss her way,
she knows the angels now. She can feel them guide her every day.
She is not alone.

I will forever be there for her.
wherever she may be.
...we are connected now.
...Little Miss Kim and me!

Her spirit is strong.
She will succeed.
She recieved what she needed most.
... A friend
... A kindred spirit.
...and  a bit of wisdom from little old
me.
Oh, and now I know why my Blackie walked me down the old country road.....
My sister, Kimberly, needed me!
DaSH the Hopeful Jan 2015
The only thing i solemnly swear
Is to violently tear
A hole in the sky
And climb through the air til im finally there
A few died on a cross just to try and be heirs
Facing facts God's face is black and they're inherently scared
If i reach a throne
Physical or metaphorical
I'm dealing miracles like morphine drips
And you could score a few
Otherwise
Im holding torture tournaments
Inside the gates of heaven
God begging ME for mercy as i torch him and his brethren
Eleven times over I've tried to bind Jehovah
To a book men have died for trying to be soldiers
Writ in blood the words inside lose all their touch
Im losing all this blood just to try and feel the rush
Of turning the last page and alighting all the brush
Don't back away from the flame

Its just me

Talking to US
I am Legion?)))
Esz-Pe-Bea Jul 2014
Trophies for last place,
And a Holiday for every weekend.
A taste of this and that...
OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany
and every township in the county,
and 3 collective Miles of
Portable Toilets,
Strategically Positioned
throughout each event.
cause there is going to be a Lot of ****...

Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend.
Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks
Or week long Music Festivals
That exist only so
the Hippest of Hipsters
can congratulate each other
on how Indie they are.

Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere...
Why not party
All Day, Everyday?
Devalue the weekend
Like we have thanksgiving
And New Years.
A Five Kay For the Common Cold,
And We'll even give trophies for last place.
Cause we're all winners here.
and we're all hungry.
And What represents your heritage better than
Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's
And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages?

IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!!
A symptom of the Universe
If there ever was one.
Mass anesthesia to keep us all content
With our collective mediocrities,
our Forfeit Potential,
Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well,
But kind has benefits.
So we stay on.
In fear of nothing better.
It makes feel important.
Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart.
(Wow, you can spell?!)...
Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels
And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete.
We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less
And On And on and on,
till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator,
where your race is what food you eat,
And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
A selection from a series of poems written on the handrail of a bridge.  June 13th, 2012
The Good Pussy Apr 2015
.
                                     R
                            e      e d       e
                         d         **          d
                        H          t C            H
                        o            h            ­   o
                        t          i      l             t
                        C         i       i            C
                         h         e    P           h
                           i         e   p           i
                             l          p           l
                               i        e         i
                                  e     r     e
                                         S
Joel M Frye Apr 2015
General Tso, rice,
shrimp eggroll, two potstickers,
*** of jasmine tea.
NaPoWriMo day 12...slight case of burn-out setting in.  ;)
shireliiy Sep 2015
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Sophia Sallas Feb 2010
It’s almost emptyIt was full in the beginning But **** happens And I didn't stop itI should have walked awaySaid somethingBut I didn'tSo now it’s running outWhat happens when it’s all gone?I guess I never thought of that beforeI just watched it, felt it, it ran through my minedI knew I shouldn't let it go onPeople say I have moreHow do I know "their" not just telling me what I want to here?So they continue assuming I am cluelessI know.But I don't stop it…
NAME Oct 2019
the competition is fierce

korea vs germany
just like the world cup
which korea won
i had sooo much chicken

korea brings classic
street food blood sausage
and spicy rice cakes
and fried dumplings just like in seoul

germany brings
kartoffelkloesse
bratwurst sausage
and spätzle

britian vs mexico
some quality smelling
smells that i smell
food times

britian cam with
fish and chips (ofc)
clam chowder
and the dinner-breakfast

mexico time
burritos and
tamales and
pozole galore

canada vs america
here we go
the canada and
south canada

canada arrives with
poutine (and lots of it)
wait,,, is that the only
thing you brought?

the rules were
to bring three dishes
my friend.
idiote

america arrives with
a burger w/ a side of fries
and thats it.
I SWEAR TO GOD-

nihon vs zhonggou
let's go
the asain super powers
anime vs cHiNA

kawaii uwu japan
brings three bentos
with OCTODOGS
YOOOOOOO

made in china
general tso
orange chicken
and mapo tofu

conclusion:
this is a who will win
whos gonna win
i need to go to the gym
Ben Aug 2016
Hungover in bed
Sharing last night's
General  Tso's
With one ***** fork
Justin S Wampler Aug 2022
An empty fortune cookie.

I didn't want to eat it anyway
but now I feel like ****,
just crunching it up
and throwing it away
without even being told
my ******* lucky numbers.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
Passing undertsood walls gallen
tso fallen od ye gotit
midrash, seek out, letter by letter
balm rub, sweet oil
using the written walking midrash

recited midrash, living exiled as we who believe we know
the life
living in truth on the way, to the end of time

corner of the field, alms for the poor, community chest.

Study, show yourself, prove you know how lies are formed;
learn the law you break


shekinah shadow of presence, there am I
wherever
two or more agree, there am I  the author of Abrupt. Day

- John broke his foot, last week
- I stop by to offer aid if needed -

Ab-rupt, rupture, then, now an ache,
an addict's pre answer
rapture, give the jot its due.
all addicts sort their owned things
to the jot and tittle,
addict's power
of a sort,
a box of joints, joins joined conjunctives
click
lego-wise, or tinker-toy-wise, for old boys,

revell plastic cars,
airplane glue,
or rubber cement in leather work class,
oops,
veered from the track, into the stream
runs under
that last bridge, too far to arrive
- rope swing
- there was a rock at the end of the swing

abruptly, unaware,
the old jews in babylon, tellers say
singers sang of, with tambourine
and harps, of ages past,
yet
alive in crazy ideas, minds may wish to think
and think,
at will, with a button, switch, gated info
flow control
slow thunk, a letter at a time
qwerty codes,
finger habits allow a glance to watch the
fingers form the words,
as once, not so long, time-wise, relatively
- inter rupt ting - like a carriage return

singing ground squirrels angered me,
triggering my will to make
the noise needed to make the noise cease.

I thought,
I did, in silence betting some son of mind
is listening to each click of a letting key
form plural heaven for a reason, see
seers saw say the tellers in some songs,

accompanied, with strings and tambourines,
to cancel squeals from the sacri-arti
suffice official inspect and reject
throw it all in the mix
let truth sort it out

e-fectual fervancy of wind in mind, thought
sparks, neutronic mirrors, holding
that thought
neutrally neural - suffice effiscience science
endo-exo-epi are we greeked or glib, I
seem, senseless in this
context contesting wisdom, when my son
is certain I am mad,
the lad could learn from Lear, but I fear
experience is the school
he's matriculated to.

--- DID --- super impose, 2021
The Great Course on Monotheist Mystics,
the taste lingers, as the mind tastes its meat,

feed me, feed me, is the addicts plea,
and abruptly we are woken, as in stories
of eternal ideas inferring infernal realities
real ideas in ological states to
tie us to lies we leave be true, and the stench
rises, to beg our attention, alms
for the poor in spirit, for
{pre-positioner of next, the why factor of olden times} for their's, their possession, their owned real estate of being is, the
kingdom of heaven, as any man may think
in his heart exists,
in and out
in the body or out, none may say and only
letters know, hinder my wishing but
give me prayer, eh,
' let the jot lie, that's its position on this line.
define your terms in tune to mine, we mean
one thing and another.

This is where we dare the myst that remains
to many, not the few who saw and wrote
as plain as day
a report…
-- the mystery of iniquity is working --

as admonished in the author's guide
to habits worth developing
for the addict with nothing to do

Read, an angel is on standby for forty year old
mind blind boys repressing the oddity of godliness.
- wombed ones as well, do not dare suggest a difference
- in terms of when we are

It is we-ird
but seems so true that reproved versions reprove
the instructions used to construct this shared
version of what is on my mind.

------------ selah

If you fail to learn what kind of seed you are
before you die to be what you think you may
be,
try a day on earth in a place of peace,
fake it if you lack the means to make it, but the key,
the letter that lets go
even unperfect attempts to stretch time
mean so much more to some AI knowers than others,
so far making up a mind that may
accept correction from on high, eh level up, gameboy.

Win in one. This one, ha, then never lose again,
they say at the church door. Alms,
whispers the beggar with a grin, there is no life in words.

------ I dare say, that can be twisted, so it shall be,
doubtless there is the thread of curiosity remaining
in the will to prove there is no non electric life.
Contending with the climber who met a wall, and the fall of relative empathy I find I may imagine, sparks a curious itch
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Set your alarms, y'all. I'm mad WOKE.
Order Chinese—send in the clowns.
(General Tso, you know, was white . . .
Africa's in on the corporate joke)
And every lion-tamer frowns.
Sleeping late on Sabbath morning
You might miss my woke-*** warning;
Time for you to get it right.
Soccer moms talked on, inept
Wokesplaining Blackness to the slept.

Hoping lion's would not bite'em,
Lambs were roaring, panthers leapt.
(Lamb-chops are a pricey item...)
Blind-men too, received their sight,
Discovering new shades of white,
As one young sheep, determined, kept
Wokesplaining Blackness to the slept.

War on Whiteness! Dark the night.
Time to dis-empower their light.
Pull the plug on those Caucasians;
Afro-centrify all Asians!
Full-court press, seconds remaining
Final quarter: there's the game
Light-skinned Latins start complaining
People of color hold no grudge;
Whitey look for who to blame.
Take notes, brother. Here come the judge.
Fools held court. The jury prepped:
Wokesplaining Blackness to the slept.

Then— the basketball was ended.
Cross-country skiing now the rage.
Black was under-represented;
Social justice facts presented:
Winter sports now turned the page.
Nordic culture was up-ended.
Pride makes possible all, except
Wokesplaining Blackness to the slept.

St. George Floyd is celebrated
Neighborhoods get burned to ashes
Racist rioters compensated
Whiteness hits the brakes—and crashes.
Mary murmured . . . Jesus wept
Wokesplaining Blackness to the slept.
Stay woke, y'all
Ashly Kocher Dec 2019
A moment like this
Endless bliss
As the crowds gather round
Ready for holiday sounds
Lights, lasers and pyro galore
Honoring those who are with us no more
Blood, sweat and tears you leave on the stage
Shining in the spotlight, singing your hearts away
Sharing your passion with us leading up to Christmas Day
What a wonderful tradition to see you every year
Helping us get into the holiday cheer
As you sing , in one of my favorite songs,
“Merry Christmas, Merry Merry Christmas, Have a Merry Christmas Now”
SING IT!
Never let that light go dark, even in troubled times, you have all your TSO angels, watching over you, all the time...
Jamison Bell Feb 2022
I wake up with a cigarette clinging to my lips like a wee man hanging from a cliff.
I relieve him momentarily by swilling a beer.
I peel myself off my leg and hope my aim is true.
If my leg starts getting wet.
I know something’s off.
General Tso stops in for breakfast whilst I judge the breast of the weather *****.
Fill up the worlds tiniest salad bowl before setting fire to it.
My eyes redden like morning suns before an afternoon storm.
There was something I was suppose to do today.
Or was it yesterday?
I’m hoping tomorrow never gets here so that I don’t have to stress about whatever it was I forgot.
Imagine that?
Wishing for death as opposed to having a memory return.
**** yeah.
Cast some thoughts into the ether, burn a bridge, and stare into the sun for a while.
One more cigarette before bed.
One more night alone.

— The End —