Take your Fish to Work Day.

Excercises in Voices not my own:
(mom, emphasis on NOT, this has absolutely nothing to do with me,
it was just an experiment....thought i should make that as clear as possible.)

"Say Grace".

When you sit down for supper tonight, in your Pier 1 dining room and pick up your silver spoon to eat your chilled tomato bisque, make sure you look up and smile at your white toothed wife and concentrate on how perfectly perfect it all is at that moment.

Lock eyes... because if you don't, the color of the vintage Merlot in your fine cut crystal will catch your gaze and remind you of the color of my blood on your monogrammed, beige towels, the ones I grabbed when I cut my knees shaving. And once you remember the beige bloodied towels, then it will all come back.

The microwave meals, the orange velvet couch that smelled of cigarettes and old spice, the cat hair on your suits, the tantrums, the Doors, the trips, my finger nail clippings on your nightstand, shared spoons and unwashed dishes, the bobby pins, the missing money, the bottles, my midnight dances, thunderstorms, the leaky roof, not showering, always bathing,
my obsession with peeling your burnt skin, your obsession to stop me...

Lock eyes. Make sure you look at your cilicone wife with her palstic breasts and colligen smile. Make sure you stay focused on her and all that she brings you....

Because all it takes is one sideways glance ...for your wine to taste like my sweat,

and suddenly you'll remember how much you loved hating me,

and your whole, Whole foods meal will make you miss me your whole life.