dear_cherry_street bijou i would not still be here if he wasn't punching walls. bloody knuckles are my anthem, somebody just gimme the chords. i feel reflective but not like a poem, like a bicycle light. an aurora borealis on my nightstand tells me the time and leaves an absurdly misspelled message in pink and green and red. i have a record. dear diary, welcome to the sixth grade. dear you, your ugliness and wretchedness is what i love about life. dear tomorrow, let's just go home. dear monday, the aurora borealis becons me to work, to wait, to waste, to wear out the insides of my eyelids and lips with hard cigarettes and nervous teeth. dear knees, dear beads, dear hands, dear genessee. dear cherry street. 040819 ... mangrove dear me 040819 ... bijou i have a record. "if you leave and you're not tired, give me a call. happy blow shit up day. i'm watching the ashlee simpson show. are you still here? have fun at the swap meat. okie see ya later sweet dreams. don't worry, i like you. don't worry, you didn't." "it's okay, as long as you're safe." that one got me. 040827 what's it to you? who go blather from