that's all it is, gerald, my young hero. at any rate we'll spare ourselves the nausea of stirring the old broth any more. you be beautiful, my gerald, and reckless. there are perfect moments. wake up, gerald, convince me of the perfect moments, oh, convince me, i need it.
this is my particular monster. i know him;
he walks about inside me: i'm his house
and his landlord. he's my evacuee
taking a respite from hell in me
he decorates his room of course
to remind him of home.
remember me when I'm a ghost; watch me turn myself into a book.