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.