Sunday, March 27, 2011

Dear You,

I wrote you a letter last night.
It was incredibly long.
It took me a half hour to write.
I told you how I would like to kidnap you
And make you my bitch.
And ever.

But I don't really know if I want that.
I wanted it yesterday.

To be realistic, it would never work.
It's impossible.
Maybe if we had met at another time.

The thing is, I have a big secret.
I'm dead.
I have been for years.
It was a bit of a revelation to me as well,
until bits and pieces of me started falling off in the shower.
Most people don't notice at first
but then they get a good look,
and it's so obvious
by the horror on their face.
They try not to run away
and vomit
from the stench of my rotting flesh.
It's actually a sweet gesture that they
try so hard to be polite.

I'm sorry for any inconvenience
But I actually like you enough to be up front
about it.
before you realize
My disturbing truth.
Maybe one day the authorities will catch on and have me buried
in the potters field.
Until then, I'll just be...
Where ever Here is.


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