pervy blue raincoat
Call me forgotten. A light too weak to fill the bulb. Waiting is a disease. I don't want to talk with anyone. I don't want to be remembered, recalled. I feed my handwriting to the hand that wrung it out.
No more, please. I can't stand not knowing you.
Let me go away, okay? Let me go away and down. And let me stay there before anyone notices I'm missing from Monday.