i'd like to become seaweed. sirens lure women down
into the sea, and when they drown, they join them
from beyond their watery grave. and so will i, i decided.
that phrase -- "their watery grave" -- it resonates
i fell asleep with my hair blowing in my eyes.

lying face down, i imagined sirens sounding
like old patsy cline records, i imagined them singing
i fall to pieces, as people raced down the streets and i panicked.
some people like to find meanings in every little thing,
some can't stop themselves. and then i thought,

would it make more sense for them to sound like some
screaming apparitions i'm not cool enough to have
known and dressed like? that's the girl i wanted to be
when i was still bloody, that's the girl i used to fantasize about
in my hazy morning mind, but not everything is about me.