I could have died if they didn't find me in time.
If I didn't cry so loud.
If I didn't tell them how many.
If they didn't call.
If I didn't get in the car.
If I didn't drink that black stuff.
If I didn't want to disrupt what I started.

But I did disrupt.
I did drink the black stuff.
I did get in the car.
They did call.
I did tell them how many.
I did cry so loud.

I didn't die.
And I truthfully wish I had some nights.

I won't let them tell me life is worth living because
Suffering isn't worth living for.

In the middle of the night; cool and dark; new thoughts rush and I can't wait to lay and talk with you; I wish I could have you.
Uncontrollable hair and wonderfully soaked sheets accompanied by the aroma of tulip tears and the creation of new dreams and promises we dare say to keep.

I want to listen to your every problem and hear every thought you think.
I want your lips to carve a gaping symphony of unfathomable attachment into my skin.

Possess me with your beautifully distorted spirit.
Twist around me like hungry vines on the broken cabin in Newport we could visit in the summer; I hope you'd want to be mine then;
Puncture so deep to scar me because I want to see that I can bleed into your faultless life force and mark you with deep affection.

I never want to hate you; I never could hate you.
I only wish for my impenetrable love to swaddle you;
Promise to let me perceive your eager embrace, be enriched by your rousing touch, taste your never ending love imprinted on every centimeter of your very soul.

Engulf me entirely so that I may enjoy the simple pleasures I can NEVER receive from another.
Let me be your only even if now you aren't ready; promise you will be.

Or just for tonight to ensure that promises are within our reach; you don't have to mean it but promise anyway.
After all, it's everything we've got in these hours of darkness. Hold onto that word, baby, I beg you.
Then later love me as I already do you.

Clap.*
                                                                         From the man in the back with a heart of gold sitting beside his mother.

Clap.
                                                                         From his mother who is having the time of her life because it's coming to an end.

Clap.
                                                                         From the girl in the front row with the abusive father and dead mother whom she feels watching over her shoulder.

Clap.
                                                                         From the old veteran next to her holding a picture frame of his late wife and a daffodil repeating the words "to new beginnings".

Clap.
                                                                         From the little boy watching from the balcony trying to understand why mommy is crying now.

Clap.
                                                                         From his mother, the thirty-year old divorcee, crying because the music is over and the curtains are closing and she felt free before the end.

Clap.
                                                                         Because this place holds freedom from the real world's problems when we do not want to face them.

Clap.
                                                                         To hold onto that freedom.