I hear your screeching voice beckon across a sea of fans, energy bouncing from amplifiers to them, and back to you.
I see and hear your strain to force out words.
Your Red, sometimes Blue, mostly Blond hair reassures me.
The first notes of "Smells Like Teen Spirit," "Slither," "Molly's Lips," or "Pennyroyal Tea" tell me I'm home.
Your tattered, worn, "Norm-Core" Goodwill clothes show you're just like me.
You play your faded Blue "JagStang" with a fluidity that makes Grunge seem like soft-rock.
You jump, run, headbang, bashing the stage with energy, despite your struggles.
Your Saucer Blue eyes reflect desperation, happiness, contempt, sacredness, and shyness.
Your lyrics range from vile to joyful, but they all resonate.
You seem to enjoy yourself, even if life wasn't always kind, because music made you happy.
You smash your instruments to pieces, having a good time with Krist on bass and Dave on drums.
You inspired the world and saved lives just by being you.
You didn't deserve your fate; the world isn't the same without you.
Thank you for everything, Kurt Donald Cobain.
Love, Dani Cali.
