letra de conversation with dr. seussicide - i hate myself
under a red sky, i told her, “i want to die.”
and how i cry with no concrete reason why
and have bad dreams every night, or every other night.
i feel sickly, like i am lost at sea.
and all the girls i used to know are high on ecstasy,
and they’re much happier than me, i think.
she told me things would p-ss,
like the girls who smoke the gr-ss,
like huffing gas out in the dried-up meadow gr-ss,
uer stars that shine like gl-ss in the sun.
and she said, “would you shoot me in the head?”
we shot the breeze and had malt liquor instead.
p-ssed out together in the she’d or the bed – i don’t recall.
i said: “what better way to put myself in my place?
what better way to get out of this godd-mn place?
sometimes i feel like i’m stuck in this f-cking place.
what better way to put myself in my place?”
she said: “broken hearts are easy to hide.
broken hearts are easy to ignore.
see, when you break your heart, nothing really breaks.
look at me, and look at you:
18, and dead – at 16 you were almost dead.
just sleep with me in my bed,
and don’t say those things you said.”
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