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she took off her raiments as he left at dusk after they watched Babylon five episodes
at her request.
she loved his knowledge
"back at the cul de sac...lose your job again..."
and there was a firefly outside. she always called them lighting bugs, it was like the u in colour.
affected.
"...when you''ve had enough of the white knight... if you could do it all again..."
and the man who gave her succor
left
at her bidding.
she was grateful and humbled at the whole thing
a dog walked down the street and the cicadas sang too.
this song she was playing was by radiohead
"I don''t like the end..."
it was Called "dawn chorus"
it was what Kent had sent her in response to her whatever clever happy birthday she had sent this year on may 27th - like Lisa left eye Lopez.
and her brother was dying.
the mother said, "it might be six months. I hope we get four."
it made her die a little.
why couldn''t we love each other nakedly even when the end was
heralded
she stomped her foot in another beat.
she should have been a drummer, but there was still time.
fuck.
let''s be real. if you could hear her, she drums on this keyboard like
someone who feels
someone who demanded
they felt
demanded it
as revenge.
000
---
she had never even looked at you brother
she had just always known you.
let''s do it.
let''s look at you.
the first memory is "who do you like better? her or me." "you have to decide. you have to pick one."
she was like fucking obviously it''s going to be the brother, he really loved her - but the sister would make her pay for saying the brother and the brother could take it - he would know she really loved him best. he would understand.
"meri. meri is the one I like the best."
the torture broke and then
the wars began again between them
and christi just went back into her
three year old world
and savannah Georgia was so beautiful and the ocean.
her first love - after family, was the ocean.
she sang to it on a balcony all alone in the wind after her father had violated her. and she had had to eat it.
an old story.
sure.
a story that burns deep wounds.
you try living it douchebag.
try it.
just imagine.
she always says that.
"round and round! round and round!" she would cry to her brother with utter love. he did it so much more than anyone. and everyone knows spinning is the gateway drug (or is it sugar).
and at their grand mommy''s house - a rare time that her ''bad'' brother attended. she saw him so seldom when he turned sixteen or something.
but he asked her to read to him. He said he didn''t know how.
she felt
utter true innocent embarrassed compassion for her prodigal brother.
she read him the pages. it was only after a bit she was soooooo relieved he was kidding.
and they laughed.
she loves him so much.
he was safe.
he was safe.
"talking''s good christi. talking''s what we''re here for. it''s when you say the same thing over and over. that it sucks."
"what you think you are is what you act like and what you act like is what you are."
and dancing with you and having your girlfriend say, "your sister is cool.."
I loved you
I love you.
we are the only people in the family for whom music is regulation/friend/solace/important.
the thing we meet on is pink Floyd.
god.
please live.
please live so long and have this be easy to beat.
please.
please.
"hello hello is there anybody listening..."
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