"SHE LOVES ME. I KNOW." there’s an old Asian legend that says: your present face is that of the one you love the most. it’s probably a myth but all myths have a drop of truth that isn’t subjective. as I stand in front of this broken reflection of what I chose to murder, as I wander inside these walls on the Terrace, as I stare at blue walls that cry, I greet melancholia. it is an old friend that leaves and returns more and more. it’s devotion is unlike any other. no woman could match it. I’ve grieved her under the sun, as the city lights blur and stare at me with their eyes and from the darkest corner of the night. the gods listen and take note. if the face legend is true, the one I love is the saddest version of death, in a double shot. By: Chicano Eddie