They love you. God, they'd miss you too much. A forgettable, unmissable self writes this for unforgettable you. Nailpolish, coffee and big city. Who is this girl? Go away. Shoo shoo. Big fear, little courage. No regrets. Are you kidding? No, don't call me that. Used to have impossibly high morals. Miss morals. No friends. Sharp pain in your side when you inhale deeply. Gone, can't you see there's nothing there? Tomorrow, tomorrow. Fuck it, I say. All the prophets are dead.
Wrong. You are wrong. Cold toes. Trembling. Scars, don't make more. No one wants to hear your stories. Magic! It's over. Sleep, sleep. Alliteration takes too much work. Press next button. Hail Mary full of grace, the lord is with thee, and all the lies. Blessed are those who shop at American apparel, for they shall get laid. All I really want is girls. However, conditions like this guarantee loneliness. Sign your name.
-A.L.
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