She told him no. She told him no and that was it. No more tries, no more chances. She was shutting the door and she was leaving. Have to stop her, have to touch her, have to get her stationary and just explain. Tell her every excuse, every lie. Just make her feet stop. Reach her ears. Reach her ears with your fucking voice and shake her down with your words. You pushed her away and you can bring her back. Easy, like before. Carefully placed tones and words. Hypnotize. You know how. Like playing a song on piano. Duh duh duh duh duh. She's in your arms. Only, she's not. She knows the song, too. She knows every fucking note and she's had enough of your bullshit. She is done and she is gone. And it's your fault. Your fault. My fault.
- Written to the piano song at the start of Where the Wild Things Are. Holds no relevance to my life at all.
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