Instead of slashing my wrists, I just write a bunch of really crummy songs.
- Peter Steele
“Hm. Peter Steele died,” he said with no more than a passing notice. And in those three words, my world changed.
It all started with Bloody Kisses. Not the album. The song. I can remember Susan said, “You’ve got to listen to this band.” I remember sitting there randomly selecting any old song and touching down on number 10. My mind was blown. Somehow this man’s voice reached inside of me, grabbed hold of my intestines and ripped them from me taking every internal organ with them. I felt empty and yet some how so very full. For the first time in my life someone understood the despair I was feeling. The loneliness and the heartbreak. It was the start of a beautiful, albeit one sided, relationship.
He made me laugh. He made me cry. He held my hand though the good times and the bad times. He provided the soundtrack to my life. One I was content to see continue.
Instead of slashing my wrists, I just listened to Peter Steele’s crummy songs.
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