9
" Darling, don’t say it’s me that you love,
But that you love how I make you feel on the weekends.
Don’t say you have to go, admit there’s nothing more to let me know.
Don’t say it was a good movie, tell me that it was a good break.
Don’t say you like her hair, tell me that it’s just different.
Don’t say your father’s evil, tell me that it’s ignorance.
Don’t say you feel like dying, tell me life would be better without bills.
Don’t say you hate crying, but that you hate when they see you ill.
Don’t say you love the winter, tell me you like the gifts.
Don’t say you want a vacation when you really want a kiss. "
― Karl Kristian Flores , The Goodbye Song
12
" I miss her so much. So much. I can’t sleep. I just cry. Sometimes when I’m in bed, and my arm loses circulation, or my leg is in a weird position, I think of her. Her stiffness. I just lay there, with my body, frozen, imagining if that’s what she feels like... I lay my tongue out like this, all dry." He deforms himself. "I twist my wrist, and I tell her, 'Goodnight. "
― Karl Kristian Flores , The Goodbye Song
15
" Sometimes, in their wide-eyed, ashamed, fanatical temperament, their humanity spills out in a discomfort that is nearly frightening. But, we all harbor some form of innocent strangeness that we keep to ourselves—our fears, our obsessions, our questionable sanities. They are the reasons why we do things— routes we take, instruments we learn, and CDs we buy. It sounds like honey, but I’m not just being an essayist here. I do believe it. And it’s the truth because today, I’d like to share my strange with you. "
― Karl Kristian Flores , The Goodbye Song