Hey Juana, I have been wanting to call. But last time won't pretty. You made me a monster, except the beast wasn't me. It had my jawline, it had my scar on its right eyebrow. It had my face but it wasn't me. The savage was hunting me. He won't alone either. It was itself more times than I can count. It became they. It became, they. Juana you allowed it to kill me. But that wasn't enough, they came after me in death. He grabbed my casket and yanked it through oceans. As I'm drowning, they all came, they all took turns to stone me. But it won’t rocks they were throwing, it was knives. Each took time to kill me. But they then followed me in my next death. Drowning in a different ocean. But this time it won’t knives he was throwing at me, he was stoning me with fucking turned-on chainsaws. Juana I lived every unimaginable death. Except it never ended. What the fuck even is this, how should I expect any of this to make sense? I. Only I can understand these words. Juana it was scary, I’ll never go back there I swore to ma self. It’s a big old lie. Juana, one day I’ll go back. But this time, please allow me to be it, allow me to be the creature.

Thanks for the art Juana

Nalo