Brandi Wells

Find my apartment using yahoo's phonebook and stare in my living room window. Watch me watching porn at my desk with the computer monitor and my chair swiveled so it's difficult to see what I'm doing. Run away before I come outside. Stand by your car, fiddling with your cell phone, but glancing at me when I am not looking. Think I am attractive in my blue cow pajamas and black wife beater. Love the way half my hair is stuck to the side of my face and the other half stands up, waving in the breeze. Admire that I am confident enough to go five days without shaving my pits. Walk over to me, glancing nervously away several times. Say, "Hello," and ask if I know how to get to McDonalds. Pretend not to understand my directions. Ask me to ride with you. Your car smells like cheeseburgers, so I know you were lying and are perfectly capable of finding your own. Buy me a Big Mac and when I finish it before we get home, turn around and buy me another. Wipe the special sauce from my chin. Move in without me noticing. Sit quietly on the sofa unless I speak to you. Break off both your thumbs so you will not be able to open doors. Swallow your vocal cords so I won't hear you cry. Grow pale from lack of sunlight. Let your shoulders narrow from inactivity. Love me unconditionally. Let the hair on your head, face, arms, legs, back, chest, ass and groin fall out, due to malnourishment. Cut off your eyelids so you can watch me always. Dehydrate yourself so your face will stay dry of tears. Take up less and less space. Hide in a kitchen drawer when there are people over. Hand me spoons and forks when I open the drawer. Cut your legs off so you will better occupy the drawer. Lay between the dinner and salad forks. Hide between fork prongs. Lay very still when I choose the fork you are hiding in. Do not thrash around when I swallow you with a bite of store brand lasagna. Think my throat is beautiful.