If You Ask I Will Tell You
I will also admit how moved I am by instrumental versions of terrible songs in restaurants and that I've never understood why at the end of the nightmare the murderer and I eat a meal together. I think I'm mostly terrified of progress, that my raging brain continues to clot in the body print I wake up in. What if what I really need is to be chaperoned through life as a series of lessons to approach or abandon, like how life already is but more easily measured. I could try to beat out all my bad moves but that would mean no more screaming at the sun, no more waiting to be delivered into it.