DIRECTOR'S CUT - EM ALLUSHI
- Jul 24
- 1 min read
By Morte Ashgrave
They say the first cut is the deepest,
that a good death is the sweetest.
Mine would be an old horror movie—
distorted, bad acting,
everyone running the wrong way.
My life was an old rock song,
uneven, messy, turned out wrong.
Lyrics and rhythm out of sync,
a one-hit wonder
with no comeback planned.
I lived like a victim in a wrong-turn film,
always choosing the house over the road,
mistaking noise for safety.
On Elm Street, I’d survive.
Not because I’m brave—
because I’d ruin the plot.
I’d get Freddy killed
the way I ruin everything else:
by doing the wrong thing
at the wrong time
with complete confidence.
Failure is my only skill.
I use it well.