Maybe the road to hell isn't paved with good intentions. Maybe onions don't make you cry. Maybe lipstick teeth don't exist. Maybe when you call a strange number no one answers.

There are a lot of maybes I live with in this chaotic bowl of cherries. Two cents an hour to talk to me. Only that, I guarantee. But you'll still grow poor cos you'll love talking to me for days on end.

In my room there's a spider creeping up. I hold your hand and you gaze up like I'm up there. But I'm down here and I'm trying my hardest to make you smile.

My mom and dad don't know about us. but they also don't know that I'm living on a new feeding spree. Cos when the full moon hits the spot I go back to my roots, I go mad.

Yet somehow you stayed here to fight. And I kinda like you for that. Other people get grossed out. Other people don't want to sleep with me. Though I shower, naturally, after I frolic in the bushes. I'm pretty as a picture but there are times when I'm so very ugly. But you don't see that cos you cover your eyes with my hair. Who am I to make you see me?

You worked with bigger animals. I'm just that beast that's inside you.

Charlie, I have a new reason to breathe and it's you.