O brother I'm sorry we used to drop you in the washing machine and the dryer and laugh when you cried. I'm sorry I scared you when you were little. I'm sorry I didn't teach you how to pick yourself up. I tried but too late. I'm sorry I didn't slow my life down sooner so I would know what iti is you needed and told you how to get there. And now, now your parts don't know how to work together. Now, you just want it to end. I'm so sorry there is no break formt he noise, the ligths the crowds, You need a silence without walls so that you can breathe again. and then to find yourself again. I'm so sorry you are half-formed for this world. They'll send you to a 28 day program again. Flourescent lights sining on brown carpet and yellow stained walls. What you need is the desert. What you need is the mountains and the ocean.

Once I was made of love. And now the richness within other's hearts fill me up I can hardly take you in any more. I push you out with my mind, rationalize and calculate emotional expenditure and accounts received. I write you off when there is little to learn, when the battle to reach understanding with you of each other is too costly. Once I was made of love that turned into an apple that turned into rot so sweet and rich inits passion I can ingest no more from you. Which is fine, my super power is my force field.

I have the eurythmics in my head right now and sylvia plath too. And bauhaus.