For Sharon H
March 23,1970
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19700323                    Desire                    Self

For Sharon H
I occasionally think of love now,
Between the moments I spend
Playing with a child’s mind.
But I would rather not for it
Reminds me that I am no longer
Have a love to share with another.

Instead, I prefer to manipulate
My new toy’s mind,
Gaining a feeling of impregnable power
Over another person.

I relish the absolute destruction
I can cause
By a well-place,
Well-timed phrase.
And the illusory beauty I can build
Through more gentle phrases
And more sadistic lies.

I accuse her of playing games
To convince her of my sincerity;
But it is I who is playing games,
Morbid games of sadism;
Enjoying lifting her up, so
I can laugh as she falls
And is broken,
As I once was broken.

But being ingeniously cruel enough to
Assure continued satiation of my
Misdirected desires,
I use every wound I inflict
As a building stone in my eventual
Citadel of complete annihilation
Of a poor child who, unfortunately,
Happens to be the object of my revenge.

Her craving need for love
Blindly leads her on to accept
Even my tortuous advances,
In hope that maybe I am not lying
And merely suing her for my own
Unfathomable tortures.

I could say I regret that such a lonely child
Should be my subject of torture,
But even that would be a lie;
For only such a desperate person
Would not see through my games.

Thus, my second Sharon, I love you,
But not for the reasons you would want.
Oh, God, what ever happened
To the beauty I used to know?

Sharon Harter’s Response (in red ink on the same page)

Scott, Why
Please why. I love you so much. I want you to be with me before I sleep. The aspirins are making me so sick there were so many. My eyes are blurry and I can’t read the labels to see how many the bottle was almost full. Please don’t hate me for this, I want to die. I hope there was enough aspirins so I can. God why can’t love be returned when it’s given? Why, why can’t you love me the way you do Sharon? I love you so much. I wish that I were smart enough for you. I wish that I were then somebody else’s lonely child.
Please Love Me.

Sharon, Chip and I took a delightful trip to Brownville, Texas trying to get into Mexico in my VW Van. We were headed to buy pot in Mexico, but they didn’t let us in without buying insurance for all the cash we had, good thing, we probably would have been caught with dope we had smoked all the way to Brownsville from Indianapolis.