January 1979 Saw A Terrible Crash

Here's letting you know that I might be dead in four-and-a-half hours.

Why is it empty when I need you/him?/them the most?

My hair feels messy and I can't work anymore. I don't want to be here but I can't stand that house. Europe sounds good. Wine and fresh bread and food with weird sauces, right Sam? But you don't know me, you don't know me. And you'll never, I'll never, I'll be this way forever.

25 feet in front of me she is perfect and boring.

//My fingers click idly. I find this boy I know and ask him to come over. I tell him I can't be alone. . . agrees and scurries. . . We eat. . . I rub my nose. . . Such a marvelous. . . I want to cry. . . These. . . will have to do. (12,13) //

//. . . always the clean one. My digital clock ticks. I am left alone in my empty. . . bed. . . her mother walking in on her when she was having sex. . . drown me in a spoonful of water. . . I have no chance. . . a poem in black ink. (14,15) //

I want to make art. I want to make art so bad. Please, can't I be beautiful?