he wants the most from his adorable host- a precious ballet and two-thousand operating machines. he claims she's got a heart and it's bleeding apart, but there's no doctor around he can sue. they once loved so dear- they were cautious and clear. they slept tightly in sheets and made love in the streets. everything was love and in everything was love and from everything there was love. simple movements to other places. move some dust, make a cloud. can't see shit. what's wrong with us? they would ask all of the time... just never to eachother. well, she would. she'd drive hours to his place and write him a letter... soul and tears and heart and mind and truth down on the paper. hello kitty paper the last time. but she'd always wake up first. and lay there- afraid. worried. he'd give her great reason, and why should he care? the relationship had ceased years ago- when she thought it was finally starting to happen. life is strange. lies can be outrageous. for instance, the boy when i was young never stole the purse while i was vaccuuming the car. my mother told me. last week. but i have always known that. but it is not true. some story i made up as a child to gain attention and now i am permanently freaked out by vaccuuming alone. go figure.

does this transfer to love? i see it does. he and i were never he and i. we were never us. we were never we. i sucked him off, we kissed real great, we looked good together. we laughed. he'd never go for a girl like me. even when he tried. he didn't want it enough. it makes me feel bad. ever since him, i've had an explosion of heartache. heartfade. heartdrop.