MDecember 12, 2003:
someone asked me: what do you want?
my gut was elated to let go of the answers, and the words came tumbling out like vomitus, leaving the insides of my mouth coated with the foul taste of self-indulgence. nostrils, clogged with the fumes of my own naivete. the smell of baby.
someone asked me: do you want to sing, or choke
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