I own nothing. But review anyway.
Dear Roger,
I hope that someday you will be able to forgive me for this terrible act. I want you to forget about me and live. Meet new girls, hell meet new boys. Just find someone you can connect with to help you move on. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive me.
Love, April
No. Too…loving, I guess. I don't know, it's just wrong.
Roger,
I don't know why I'm leaving a note for you. This is all your damn fault! It was you and your needle sharing and whoring! You fucking killed us both! It might as well be your hand dragging this fucking razor across my wrists, you dick. Tell Mark that I'm sorry about the mess.
The bitch you killed, (i.e. April)
No. Fun to write, but way too angry.
Rog,
I'm killing myself. So…yeah.
Ape
Now that one's just shit.
Dear Roger,
I wrote a poem for you.
There once was a girl in a knife
Who had wanted to be your wife
That dream is now gone
The memory lives on
And she just can't deal with this strife
April
My suicide note will not be a limerick.
Dearest, darling Roger,
That's shit just from the start.
Roger-
AIDS equal us. AIDS equal dead
So, by the Transitive Property of Equality (if a equals b and b equals c, then a equals c), us equal dead. I'm just saving some time.
Your mathematician, April
Hmmm…too geometric.
Fuck this.
We have AIDS. I love you.
Done.
