not if you were the last chiiildd on earth

i. in lieu of earlier writings

it doesn’t even really BEGIN to explain you and me, but it starts to.

all of that stuff is true, and I do wonder how you could imagine that i can manage to put you, mr. d. chiiildd, into one tiny little package when you’re a thousand and a few millions besides.

ii. dear christ:
fuck you for thinking i can shrink-wrap the universe.
love, epi.


iii. i love you like kanye west lo [sorry, epi, and i’m going to let you finish, but my poetry’s better]ves Ego.

iv. it [chiiildd] fits you so much, because you are a child in a way that just isn’t explicable.
you are this little boy with this head full of these gigantic ideas and a heart with massive feelings in it.
little boy humor and older man sadness and in-between joys.
I’m getting emotional. Stop me.
jesus christ.

his response:


and mine:

pain makes me emotional as hell.
when i go to the hospital tomorrow, they better give me fucking painkillers.
i will sleep forever.

his response:

And I will change your sheets.
Roll you to stop bed sores.


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