Ink Spills and Five Notes of Suicide

'Look what you do to me. Let's have sex.' 'Okay.' And that was the start of it all. Well, not the start. The commitment, the uncaring change over. So here's the deal, you're being let into a head. That's it, that's all you're getting. Only part of a story, only waking thoughts for which you'll need to fill in the blanks. This is the output of fifty mornings. Fifty ink spills across blank pages of a book. Fifty waking thoughts scrawled through half open eyes. Fifty mornings getting over him.