The B-side is scratched to hell.

I’ve been brain numb for a while kicking meds out of my body, half in and half out. Move too fast and I fizz, hear car wrecks before they actually happen. Some part of me wants to pluck my eyelashes like a dog licks a raw spot. I know none of this makes sense to you. I think I’m sorry for that. Rachel, be clear.
That’s it then? Good enough for you?
OK – When I move my eyes there’s a buzzing sound.
But it’s going away.
So am I somehow.
You say don’t hate yourself. So I do. And whenever I eat red seedless grapes, plucking the fruit from stems like pulling virgins, I feel eviscerated, there’s no going back. All that remains is virile on the stem, glowing translucent like a torch.

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