Thursday, April 15, 2004

i want to be studied, in depth.
to have investigators, and a whole line of people just dying to know
what was going on in my life in the last few moments.
for them to nitpick all of my things,
to analyze all of my decisions.
sifting through all my possessions, they'll imagine me
and record every last detail
like it was oh so stimulating and important.
i want to be a murder trial, and for teams of money hungry dogs to
have nothing better to do with their time than argue
about my persona.
a coroner to study my remains, jotting down my every last curve
and hair
and imperfection,
but not judging.
it's my turn to be the one who matters so much
that my fucking socks will be worth something.
i want a plethora of theories on
what was going through my head that night
or what my intentions were at 9:26 pm.
whether my wounds are self inflicted
or the work of someone else.
i want to my life, my example to influence hoards of people with a
"dont do this"
"better do that"
"watch out for...".
i want that everlasting role as the victim,
in someone's heart,
and that vicious accusation of a secret life that led to my downfall,
in another.
the most horrid of horrid crimes,
the worst of the worst of the worst,
and i'm inviting it with open arms.
come take me, i'm asking for it.
*bettie* at 9:53 AM