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Dio's story, BEFORE he met Aya. All I can remember is being on a dusty street... alone... hurt... hungry. My first memory was from when I was five. Everyday at about 4:30, ten kids would come up to me and scream "DIO! LEAVE! YOU HAVE NO PLACE HERE DIO!" I would slowly walk home... if you could call a couple of rags on a busy street corner home. That same sentence... "DIO! DIO!" ...It never left my head for an instant.
You may not know this, but in my first language, "Dio" means "Stupid". I was so young, that word hurt me so much... Almost as much as Alfred Drevis did.
One particular day, a sunny day (a rare day where I live), I woke up to a man and a woman arguing over something. I looked around to see what was happening. I may not have active taste buds (from never eating tasteful foods), or a good sense of smell, but I could see for miles away. The only joy in my life was all the colors I saw, sitting on that street. I watched cars and counted how many were red, blue, and even green
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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