New Year's Eve. I spit blood out, try to hide it and lose my insides in the process. Vomit 4 times in your yellow toilet, your paisley bathtub facing my back as I lift myself up into the letter V over alphabet noodles spewing out. I can't stop it now, even though you're scared, can't hold back the letters and sounds that run through my throat, painting my language, building my world.