Flash me back, flash me back.
It takes one touch to
throw me there,
to drag me here.

You may be dead
or so I’ve heard.
Did you leave a will?
Did you think of me?
It’s not important,
I don’t care for money.
Don’t ask me why,
don’t make me list them.

You left me this
and that and that.
I stick a price-tag
on each one.
One stick for every lick,
another for every prick
of your poisoned needle.
I was your special girl.

Did you remember me?
A pretty doll kept in a box
brought out to have some fun?
A doll among a hundred dolls -
pick and choose
which one today?

You left me more than
anyone will ever leave to me.
I touch, I smell, I taste, I hear,
I see, I dream, I feel,
you and you and you again.

I should thank you,
thank you for your gifts.
I must be something,
I must be real.

I gave it all,
you took it and smiled.
I watched you steal
me, piece by piece.

(Could I be whole again?)

Did you lie when you told
me I would die if I confessed?
I had thought that you were god.

The truth brought death –
But who was it for?
Not me, not me,
not me after all.

You crumbled to dirt then
didn’t you?

I take it all back now.
You can’t stop me.
I will walk over you,
run over you,
dance on your grave.

I have no need for your bequest.
I return it, crumpled and torn.
What you stole I reclaim.
It’s dirty, it’s stained
but I scrub it clean.

I laughed when I heard you were dead.