Dark Places

The Days were a clan that mighta lived long
But Ben Day's head got screwed on wrong
That boy craved dark Satan's power
So he killed his family in one nasty hour
Little Michelle he strangled in the night
Then chopped up Debby: a bloody sight
Mother Patty he saved for last
Blew off her head with a shotgun blast
Baby Libby somehow survived
But to live through that ain't much a life
—SCHOOLYARD RHYME


I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark, drop on the floor so you could stomp on it.


Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.


Coffee goes great with sudden death.


I like other people's things better. They come with other people's history.


Stunted human beings who got awkward every time we tried to express ourselves.


And so you told the lie that they thought was the truth.


You gotta believe in something, right? Everyone has their thing.


“I know a little bit about trying to do the right thing and fucking up completely,” I added.
“You talking about Mom?” Ben said.
“I was talking about me.”
“You could have been talking about all of us.”