katiewest

Tomorrow I'm leaving my house at 8:30 am and not coming home until 8:30 pm. I'm going to drown myself in the river, you know where the stairs invite me in. I'm going to hang myself from your dads flag pole and cheer when he revs his engine. I'm going to slit my wrists while in your office so you can finally write something that means something (until the next time we kiss in my dreams). I'm going to lay down on the tracks right on top of my sidewalk chalk graffiti that questions, "WWPD?" I think those two old guys drinking forties and listening to CCR across the street might stop that though. Their beards stated quite plainly, "We save damsels in distress, been doin' it for thirty goddamn years now. What's up with you bitches anyway?" Ed replies, "It's that goddamn moon and all that blood. PMS, the root of all my impotence." Wayne laughs at him, shakes his head, drinks his forty. Ed plays some air guitar, until his back hurts and he sighs into his lawn chair. I'm going to jump off the roof of my building into the sun set, 'avolare' right? Right? Running, desperate, leaping, soaring, rushing wind and the sun will blind me. I won't feel a thing, until you wake me with a kiss, hand me a glass of water with one hand and with the other say, "Take these."