Dear Francine
Dear Francine,
I wish I wasn’t gagged, so I could tell you what’s been on my mind using spoken words–instead of grunts and vowels blocked by a slobbery rubber ball. I wish I wasn’t deaf, so that I could hear your heart breaking when you read this letter. Most of all, I wish I wasn’t blind, so I could see your face when you’ve seen what I had the boy down the street do to your things (serves you right, you fecalphiliac).