Dear, reader, do stop.
This story screams
of bitter consequences.
Admittedly and honestly
I am not the most beautiful of creatures
Nor the most kind, nor intelligent.
In fact, I am not a creature at all
But a riddle of your imagination.
Incomputable but explicable
I will be as real to you as your grief
At the passing of your dearest friend.
Forgive my morbidity but you know well
The power of suffering over joy.
This is a tale of unique form
That I felt did accurately represent
The fragments of my memory.
And perhaps your memory as well.
Or perhaps no memory at all.
Ah, you see I see your bewilderment at this
Self-reflecting text. I shall be clear,
I plan to plant a seed of
Confusion and doubt, to drive you to
Insanity, as I have been
Now you wonder, as every good reader
Should, at the reliability of this narrator.
Well done! You have fallen into my traps.
Let me be clear, I hope to see you fall again
Into eternal spirals of useless questioning
I have been truthful to you
Of my less than honorable objectives
Make of this tale what you will
I give you the perfect gift of a
Pretty girl in a pretty red dress