If A Violin String Could Ache, I

My Loathings Are Simple: Stupidity, Oppression, Crime, Cruelty, Soft Music.

He Broke My Heart. You Merely Broke My Life.

Time Is Rhythm: The Insect Rhythm Of A Warm Humid Night, Brain Ripple, Breathing, The Drum In My Temple—these Are Our Faithful Timekeepers; And Reason Corrects The Feverish Beat.

The Cradle Rocks Above An Abyss, And Common Sense Tells Us That Our Existence Is But A Brief Crack Of Light Between Two Eternities Of Darkness.

And This Is The Only Immortality You And I May Share, My Lolita.