I want to string all these feelings and memories and hurt and broken glows of street-lamps I’ve waked under thinking of all this, and shove it in your face, all the way down your throat. Ingest it. Feel the same way I did, all empty and shred apart, my organs hanging from power lines while the crows look for my heart. (And I’m sorry I can’t hate you because you’re golden glitter and honey-brown eyes and somber smiles and everyfuckingthing I’ve ever wanted to be.)