You're not brave if you still keep the letters.

You ask what's wrong is something happening are you hurt or something stupid like that all the time and I shake my head because that is what you are supposed to do before you do something rash like commit a flashy double-homicide.

I swear my head makes that tinny noise of a burned-out light bulb when you shake it like a fucking maraca you find on someone's shelf of Ethnic Things That Have Nothing To Do With Our Heritage But It Makes Us Look Tolerant and Worldly and all of my little surprises and false leads are tinking around in there waiting for you to smash it in with your heel like 'Opah!' and give me the adrenaline rush of being the cheating heartbreaker caught on film fucking your best friend or a few of them and I am sorry to inform you that you are my guinea pig enjoy life for me please.

I have to hurt you before you hurt me because when I am hurt I try to share my bath with hair-dryer cords and you are unknowingly ending this cycle for me like brick walls stop cars stop arguments stop goals and again I am sorry no I'm not but if I didn't say it I'd seem callous but what the fuck my mother always said I'd left my heart back home in the fields buried with my sister and je ne t'aime pas.