Alex Is Dead, Do You

Nobody Ever Said Life Was Fair.

This Was What Being Cured Was Like: Like Being In A Fishbowl, Circling Always Inside The Same Glass.

Two Weeks Until Your Cure" She Says Finally. "sixteen Days" I Say, But In My Head I'm Counting: Seven Days. Seven Days Until I'm Free And Away From All These People And Their Sliding Superficial Lives Brushing Past One Another Gliding, Gliding, Gliding From Life To Death. For Them There's Hardly A Change Between The Two.

Quiet Through The Grave Go I; Or Else Beneath The Graves I Lie

I Love You. Remember. They Cannot Take It