Letters

I had a penpal once. Her name was Stephanie

and it was Stephanie. There is no such thing as too many

Stephanies, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

To be safe, just don't believe anyone.

When they tell you anything at all.

I'd rather die than go to the meeting so I guess

I'll die. Like all the love in the world could save me.

Stephanie and I have too much stuff in our heads.

My stomach moves like Mike Seaver's waterbed.

Ugh time. Ugh stop moving. Just stay still.

Sometimes I spend hour after hour in the bathroom

applying layer after layer of lipstick.

Singing sad love songs, perfectly in tune. 

I'm all, you can't make me.  And really, you can't.

My hair doesn’t move in the breeze.

My computer screen doesn’t glow like the moon.