Here is where the plot thickens. Too much rue they might say.

Here is where I say I’m sorry and that everything was an accident and that I’m not clawing down everything in my wake. I am though.

“Back away. You don’t want to get any of that on you.”

I should have a phone soon again, I’ve lost all of my contacts, and we’ll just have to see who emerges first.

To call me a good person means the act has been purchased.

To call me a good friend means you’re not paying attention.

To call me something closer means you’re looking to play ghosts.

Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing – the smell of blood is amplified and my teeth are bared convincingly like a smile.

“I don’t know how to believe.”

More importantly – I don’t know what to believe.

Everything will come out in the wash.

Bleach will never get us clean.

Not after what you’re going to have to ask me to do. Stare long enough into something and it stares back and all that.

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I’ll be back after the knife is done taking.