<~>30 Aug 2002

sometimes, i fucking hate you because you make my brain hurt. sometimes i love you as the god your name belies, 'cause no one but a god could make me feel like this inside. mostly, i save you for late at night, when i'm all alone, the only one left awake, and i call you up, and savor your words, let them wash me with now-told worlds i didn't imagine, and drown in the light they shine in my eyes. churned up inside over the riddles and twists, it takes a late and lonely night to swallow these whole. fuck you h. fuck you and thanks. your bosomed buddy, z.