By The Time You Finish

I Convinced Myself I Hadn't Seen Anything, ... I Had Done This Many Times Before ... I Was Adept At Erasing Reality.

I'm On The Verge Of Tears By The Time We Arrive At Pastels Since I'm Positive We Won't Get Seated But The Table Is Good, And Relief That Is Almost Tidal In Scope Washes Over Me In An Awesome Wave.

I Think The '80s Created Me, In A Way, When I Look Back On That Time, But I Don't Necessarily Think That A Lot Of My Choices, And A Lot Of Things That I Did, And A Lot Of Things That Happened To Me - Or I Let Happen To Me - Were About That Decade.

That's How I Became The Damaged Party Boy Who Wandered Through The Wreckage, Blood Streaming From His Nose, Asking Questions That Never Required Answers. That's How I Became The Boy Who Never Understood How Anything Worked. That's How I Became The Boy Who Wouldn't Save A Friend. That's How I Became The Boy Who Couldn't Love The Girl.

Hip," I Murmur, Remembering Last Night, How I Lost It Completely In A Stall At Nell's---my Mouth Foaming, All I Could Think About Were Insects, Lots Of Insects, And Running At Pigeons, Foaming At The Mouth And Running At Pigeons.