My Radar, After All These Years Of

When You Live With Voices In Your Head, You Are Drawn Inextricably To Voices Outside Your Head. Very Often The Voices Work To Confirm Your Worst Suspicions. Or Think Of Things You Could Never Have Imagined! There Are Only So Many Hours Of The Day To Hate Yourself.

This Boy Has Negative Charisma. He Walks Into A Room And The Oxygen Starts To Evaporate. I Guess That's Why Girls Sleep With Him. They Find His Awfulness Transfixing. He's Like A Lousy 1970's Disaster Movie That They Can't Bring Themselves To Turn Off, Even Though It Is Making Their Life Worse Every Minute They Leave It On.

He Was A Super Shiny Boy And I Liked The Shape Of Him. Under The Blanket. In The Shower. I Liked His Shadow On The Street And His Imprint On The Sofa. I Hated The Smell Of Hair Gel On His Head, But I Loved It On The Pillow. I Love The Smell Of Losing Someone.

No One Ever Loved You Like Him. And No One Ever Took It Away So Completely. But It's Here. Look Around.

At Least You Know Where You Are With Blood. At Least Other People Can See It.