Thursday, July 23, 2015


Baby, you’re the bomb.

Uncontrollable, easy to set off and wildly destructive, caring little for the people caught up in your wake as you tear through everything around you.

I hope whoever was responsible for creating you spent the rest of their life repenting, like Nobel or Oppenheimer, because unleashing you on an unsuspecting world made life worse for everyone you come in contact with, so great is your capacity for careless, wanton destruction…

Because, Baby, you are the bomb.

And, I realize too late, what I’d really needed in my life was somebody who was more of a balm…

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