Loves who come in like the Thunder, Die like a wreck on the reef.
10.20.05 - 3:11 p.m. If I were a ship, the reef would be riding my insides right about now, crashed and thrashed on the coral like woah, all up in dat shit. My hull would be silver splinters and I'd have been christened Lost. My figurehead would be of a bare-breasted Marat the Sea Witch, the flesh-tone paint flaking off in glistning flakes like his scabbed skin. It would be missing its head. They will pull me up later and loot me for pirate treasure, and label the skeletons of my dead crew, and put them in a museum for the monsters to view. And I will feel better, actually.
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