April Wheeler: So now I’m crazy because I don’t love you, right? Is that the point?
Frank Wheeler: No! Wrong! You’re not crazy, and you do love me. That’s the point, April.
April Wheeler: But I don’t. I hate you. You were just some boy who made me laugh at a party once, and now I loathe the sight of you. In fact, if you come any closer, if you touch me or anything, I think I’ll scream.
Frank Wheeler: Frank: Oh, come on, stop this April.
[He touches her for an instant and she screams at the top of her lungs before walking away. He chases after her]
Frank Wheeler: Fuck you, April! Fuck you and all your hateful, goddamn -
[He breaks a chair against a wall]
April Wheeler: What are you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? To show me how much you love me?
Frank Wheeler: Don’t worry, I can’t be bothered! You’re not worth the trouble it would take to hit you! You’re not worth the powder it would take to blow you up. You are an empty, empty, hollow shell of a woman. I mean, what the hell are you doing in my house if you hate me so much? Why the hell are you married to me? What the hell are you doing carrying my child? I mean, why didn’t you just get rid of it when you had the chance? Because listen to me, listen to me, I got news for you - I wish to God that you had!
Nothing can harm you. you live in your own dimension, you’re like the fog. Solid from afar but untouchable. Immortal. Magic of the night. A fleeting smile. A moments desire. Step into the fire but you do not burn, you glow like a newborn star. Soft like the muted sun rays creeping through the cracked windowsill. They want to possess you, hold onto you tightly, but you slip through their fingers like water, with glittering fluidity. You life line, you last chance. Your silver lining lingers in the air, lost soul they yearn for and dream of. Disrupt thoughts like a lightening bolt splits the sky, scarring what you’ve struck. Crash like thunder, waves against rocks. They’re under your spell, they use words like “love” and “need” and “want”, you’re wordless, like a pen that has not yet met the paper. Speak in movements, simple and severe. An uncrackable code, a cipher with no key. You’re all secrets and wonder like the divine unanswered questions. Ice layered over a deep dark river, winter air, crisp and shocking to lungs. Sweet as lilacs in the summer air. A wakeup call, a poison. Enticing, temptation, you trickster, you false god. In a trance, thoughtless and helpless. Bitten by your razor fangs, delicious venom coursing through their bodies. Willingly sacrificed. You hypnotic pendulum. Worthless offers and proclamations, proof of devotion. All goes unnoticed, you drift purposely with carelessness. Follow the path of destruction to find you, endless road with no destination. Eluding all who wish to keep you, leaving empty hands and desire. The knife against my throat. You cloak the world like a violet sky, and seem to disappear as if waking up to no longer see the moon. They cannot see you, but you leave traces of yourself for all to feel. Give just enough to make all forever yours when you are forever no ones. You are the reaper, you control, decide, take lives, tip scales. All who thrive walk alone. You’re strength is your weakness, isolated in your tower as your kingdom worships. You are everything as you are nothing. My broken compass, strange spinning arrow. Walk on broken bones laid down like a red carpet. Sand slipping away like time. Empty shell, vivacious entity. You radiate intensity, so full of contradiction. The world is yours, you are my world.