Things to Remember

Goodbye will not be easy.

tears cannot be avoided.

pain is inevitable.

please god. please help me. please stop this.

Dear friend, you are not comforting. you are not consoling. You are condescending. You say "oh your pain. your silly pain. been there. done that. you silly girl with your silly tears."

Please let me find my voice. please let me scream this away. please let me be loud in everything but this ache.

No work. no school. no reason to leave bed. I don't know what to do. i have nothign to do. i'm on the verge of begging you to stay.

I would say, " PLease hold me. please never let me go. please make this stop. don't leave me. don't leave me. Don't make us do this. I need you. please don't leave me. "

I'd get on my knees and pull you down with me. I would whisper and scream and cry. I wouldn't want to let you go.

But you have to. you have to.

And i'm sorry for never being enough.

Christmas Inventory:

2 heart necklace
1 ring
1 cd player
2 sweaters
3 tank tops
1 blanket
2 gift certificates
and about... 90 bucks?

Wanna be the Bastard of Yourself

Here's a sweet little story.

There was once a little girl. her mother was molested. It was her future child by twenty years fault.

There one was a little girl. Her sister was molested. It was her future sister by ten years fault.

There was once a family that always fought like monsters eating one another's hearts. No one walked away whole.

The only one that remained untouched and ignored was this little girl. All of this was her fault.

They left her one by one. away from everythign that was so terrible. they left her alone to take it all on herself.

at night she would think: "it's all my fault. it's all my fault. they don't love me because they can't save me. they can't save me because i'm terrbile." and she never cried.

At night there was darkness and things she never understood. like a mommy being raped and feeling the bed shake with it. like porn on a tv and feeling the bed shake with it.

never touched. ignored. all her fault. all her fault.

well she's crying now. you're all yelling now. no one will see how much she's carried. no one will see how much she doesn't want to.

she bleeds the blame away in porcelin bathtub and creamy marble and dreams of grey smoggy cities.

She wants away now. wants to leave now. they're happy now. happy without her now.

Alone. alone. she's always alone. She wants to leave here, be alone on her own terms. alone where their anger can't touch her.

Moved cars and broken windshields. cut hair in unnoticable places. fuck. dick. bastard. dirty words in songs and she's crying while he's eating and why is he leaving her. the only one who's cared is leaving her.

She doesn't care now. doesn't care now. doesn't want to be loved now. doesn't want to love now.

dull scissors. dirty laundry. pink trees and lit wreaths.

Can you save her now? is she worth it now?

You can be my Constant and I'll never Give you Up

I saw your ankles. You act like i wouldn't. act like i wouldn't care.

We all know me. It's impossible for me not to care. even about those that deserve it the least.

But you, you're one of the few i've ever... god, i can't even degrade it down to a word. You're a part of me, damnit. I need you as a reminder of who i am. I need you in a thousand ways.

No, i'll admit it openly, you're not alot of things i've maybe needed. Something or someone that could be warm and forgiving.

BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER.

I love you. It's pointless. it's hard. it's completely useless. But i do.

I saw your fucking ankles.

And the sad part is... I'm not mad. I'm not even dissapointed. I understand. I understand.

The only thing is... I wish i could have ever been enough to make you happy. I love you. and that won't ever be enough.




And she thought to herself "maybe if no one see then it doesn't derserve to be seen."

She's Done.

She's done this before. Closed you off before.

Here now, she'll do it again. fail in a week or two.

You're never there. she's always waiting. She needs no one. She needs no one.

Long weekend house bound with no car and no friends.

Tired. They're so sweet. So sweet.

There was a movie where she ate too much opium and her death was somewhat beautiful. She has few moments where she wishes for things like that.

One of them is now.

Passing Thoughts

I listen to his bones creak.

Avoid the mirror.

Shiver on the floor. get up.

Call the world your love. Love nothing.

She told you not to feel anymore. feel nothing anymore.

Wishes. Broken things.

Too much waiting and you always leave.

Emotional breakdown. Screaming in the dark.

There used to be a little girl listening at her doorway wishing she could stop the tears. Curled up, afraid, wanting nothing more than to comfort you.

The music was too loud and she realized how easy it was to forget.

Some need to forget. Some need to remember. Golconda, the city of gold and awakening. The city where i was born.

The rain is too loud. I can't think any more.

Her hair is curled. the pretty dress retired. You'll never see her.

"Best quality heart." not here. only breathing hurts.

Freeze. shut down. Move over. Restart. Erased.

Don't Look At Enemy Myspaces

On attempt to keep my blog more shallow than it has been: here's a big complaint.

I hate People. I hate half moon bay. I hate people who think they know me yet have NEVER even had a conversation with me.

I know we all make judgements the moment we meet someone. but it's called a little leeway. Ya know, when you meet someone and they turn out to be completely different than originally expected. and being ok with that.

Here's my vain moment of the night: Yea, so i might be pretty. yea, so i'm skinny. And yea, I am a lot more mature than some people.

Does that mean i'm really any of those? no. relative, absolutely not.

But relative to you? fuck yea.

I don't know you. I've never talked to you. You'll never read this. And you'll never ever be better than me. You're halfmoonbay at it's worst. Your fat. your blond. your stupid beyond belief. your ugly. your mean. and let me tell you something... I may not be good but you? you SUCK at writing. It's a game called "maybe you should advance your brain level past seventh grade."

I don't care if this is me stooping down to your level. I hate you. I hate you for being such a bitch to me. I hate you for talking shit about me when i've NEVER done even the slightest wrong towards you. I'm a big enough person to take it when i deserve it.

Robbie hates me and talks shit. Most of her feelings were justified and i'm not butt hurt. Tiffany probably talked her fair share of shit but i deserved it. I'm willing to take a beating when i've been wrong.

But you? i'm one hundred percent sure i've NEVER done anything to you. We've had maybe one or two common friends. all of whom i've never been awful to. And the only interactions we've ever had were ones of polite happiness and civility. Hell, i bet i've never even been cold to you.

And i know people don't understand why i let shit like this bother me... but i do.

You're going around telling people that i'm fake. That i think i'm too good for everyone. Hell, you probably tell people i'm a slut too. Why? i have no idea.

but here's an idea, and here's how low i'm going to stoop: I hope you stay in this small town and in this small mentality forever. I hope you get to fuck, have babies with, and then be left by some big dream drop out football player that you've known since kindergarten. And no, that's not cute and sweet and romantic. It's pathetic. I hope you never accomplish anything you've ever hoped for. I hope your children hate you. I hope you live with your mother until she dies. And then you'll be sad and alone and have no one but all your other fat white friends to hold you. Oh, and another thing... Everyone knows you're a dyke. And not even the good kind. Just the fat ugly on the inside kind. The kind that you want to throw down onto cement and break their jaws open. I hope you never lose weight. have to live a really long time. I hope you're never happy. I hope you're always drowning. I hope that you and everyone like you gets buried in all the mistakes you've made.

But most of all, I hope i'm never like you.

Party Days to Party Nights

So it's 3:30 in the morning and i finally get to bed. Wanna hear a good story?

Adolfo and I go clubbing. The crib. good times or whatever. They've got this lit floor which is amusing all of 5 seconds. And i can't seem to figure out if i've been to the club before but it was slightly remodeled or if it's a diffferent club entirely.

Either way, We're dancing and it's great. shaky start but in like two seconds we're both having fun.

And note to any guy that wants to dance with a girl: Don't do that whoel creepy "i'm gonna come from behind. just rub myself against her ass and expect her to respond" thing. Like i said. It's creepy and ugly. And the gross factor grows exponentially if you've got a RAGING boner and the beat isn't fast enough so you're rubbing your nice hard on slowly against her ass with the thought of "yea? you like that. you want that. oh yea." Yea. bad bad bad idea. Wanna dance with her? here's an idea... Look around first. Is she dancing with anyone? does it look like a significant other? no? good. Then make eye contact. smile. that's always good. don't give a skeevy look like you might eat her. Just smile a normal one. And then approach. Dance a little. IN THE FRONT! if she seems to like you, seems to want it, or turns around herself, don't try it. Its gross and lame. And that's the end of my rant.

So we leave at around 1:45 cause being the fatty i am i was STARVED to death.

I'll take this time out to describe what i'm wearing. It's a baby blue long sleeve "knit top." that means it's like a thin thermal. And it buttons part ways up the front. And along the really really really low neckline are shiny glittering things. And so i leave it unbuttoned completely exposing my black lacy bra. I have on jeans, black tennis shoes, and a black ribbon lace choker. Sexy, right? Equpied for cold? maybe not so much...

Well, we go outside and lo and behold we have QUITE the surprise waiting for us. My windshield is smashed. completely shattered. It doesn't go all the way through so much as it was extremely pushed in and the whole thing spidered out. It's a very nice, clean, almost pretty smash. Dirt/footprints on the hood. Cute, really.

Isn't that fun? But nothing was stolen so i can be really happy about that. Especially that my car wasn't stolen itself. that'd be pretty crappy.

So we called the police to report it but they said they didn't care. OK, maybe not in so many words but that smashed windshields happen so often that they're not gonna send anyone out but if we wanted to report it that badly we can go to the station.

Yea, get there in my non visible windshield. Logical.

So the next calls belong to, in this order, AAA (I think it's funner to say triple A rather than AAA when typing), My sister, and Adam.

Tow truck comes. Adam comes. Hurrah. I love my boyfriend he saved me and is wonderful and awesome and not just cause he left his house at 2 in the morning but because he just is. and he bought my present today. And he never complains that i'm awful almost half the time. But that's another story!

So i get home at 2:30. and come here to talk about it. exciting, i know. I'm still absolutely famished. I have no car for who kknows how longs.

Summation of the night: a lot of fun clubbing. last final was this afternoon. Am mega mega mega tired. whole body sore from too much dancing. car fucked. tow truck adventures. Adolfo rocks times 3. and adam times 4. I suck times 5.

MWAH!

Savage Seduction

With straight hair, dark eyes and lace along her breasts she'll seduce you. Purr in your ear, rub along your legs, your body. The sweet smell of her will drift into your system until she's all you breathe, until you can't breathe any longer. She'll make you jealous, drive you wild, make you crazy. For her.

With diamonds in her eyes, in her hair (on her fingers, around her neck) you'll die for her. She'll slip her hands beneath your layers, pull you out. Make you feel heaven. For once. For always. Her lips are full and red and she'll place them on your neck. Behind your ear. Slipping out sighs and sweet melody moans. Down your chest. Down your hips. To your lips again. You won't be able to contain yourself.

And then we can call it love. Then we can call it loud music and crowded places and secret smiles the whole world can see.

Then we can call it dancing.

Silent Mornings In SunRise

On tiptoes she is silent making her way across cream colored marble and white colored walls. There’s a humming of warmth through the empty rooms and torn apart hallway. The cracks on the ground hurt her feet like cobblestones of streets. The windows are dark, the world invisible. Something within whispers “leave here. Leave now. Or else this home may be the end of you.”

And she said to her:

I know this was my fault. I know you're right. I know that i can only blame myself for this. But sometimes, just sometimes, when the load is too heavy to bear and i can only shoulder so much of the weight am i allowed a moment? A moment where i can let it down and say 'hey, maybe this wasn't just me.' and for you to say 'that's ok. i know, honey. maybe it's not all your fault.'

And in turn she said to him:

Maybe i'll never be able to forgive.

She's sick of this. Sick of this. Sick of knowing what it must be like to be one of them. A wife so bored and lonely and complacent. So content with being all of that.

I'm no longer happy with who i am or where i am. I'm sick of waiting and being alone and letting you be my entire life. I'm sick of trying to hint this to you. Here it is: You work too much. It takes priority over everything. no matter what you say.

I am not your wife. You don't have to act like my husband. Go ahead, throw me away for a couple extra bucks that we both know you don't need. I'm not tied to you anymore. I won't be yours. I won't wait around.

We don't live movie lives. You'll never come down the stairs with a rose and a suit and sweet words to win me over. You'll never master big gestures and you'll never know what i need as proof for you.

I've said it before and i'll say it a thousand times: "there's a lot to be said about love and hope."

Well i've been loving and i've been hoping. I've been waiting for wedding rings and pretty songs and painted pictures and a new sort of intimacy. But we can't afford to give those thigns away. Don't even have the time.

Shh, Honey. Don't Cry Anymore.

She no longer writes. It would only be of him. She sleeps accompanied by nightmares of new lovers, their sordid fantasies. Each morning she picks up the phone and begins to weep. This is weakness. This is strength.

Last night a man with the name of an ex lover and a walk to shame a model passed by windowsills with blood soaked hands. She crawled on her knees, afraid for her life, and she thought to herself “live on your knees pretty. Live on your knees because your love is gone.”

He says "I promise. I can be your everything. I can be your rock. Call me, i'm yours. I'm there." And then he never came. She never asked him to.

She's laughing so hard she's really only screaming. With tears falling down her face and everyone around just stares. Family members with wide eyes and stories of her insanity. This is her insanity. let's make a spectacle, charge a dollar a head just to see. Come see her. The girl who moments ago was sneaking chocolate cake and twirling on deck ledges, glass pressed upon her legs. Cake and smiles in hand, pulled from reserve. Pulled from secret glowing lakes in the depth of underground caves.

Come see her now while she's wrapped around the finger of sad eyed poetry and her heart starts to feel that familiar ache. That old friend to hide her from failure. From Success. These are a different kind of tears. She says "Will you take me? will you have me?" and she's serious. She doesn't want this anymore. Doesn't want herself anymore. She's so sick of masks. She's so sick of duality.

A red ribbon round her neck, black hair still wet and fragrant. She wants you to hold her. Put your arms around. rock her back and forth. comfort her like a child. that is what she wants. to be rocked. slowly. sweetly. While the tears fall down.

Why can't you be happy, she wants to ask. She hears her name, foreign and strange and only discovered the night before. She hides. She sighs.

Here's a smile for you, here's a bond for you, the half of her that never could. There have been few things in her life: Family, Self, Adam and you.

Keep it together. keep it together. There's too many people for fall apart now. too many watchers, viewers. Too many with coins in their pockets and hands that don't know the beginning of anything. She feels their hidden sadness, runs away to be alone with hers. Her own bearable kind. She can't breathe. She sweats and shivers.

She almost wants a baby. Something small. only her own. To coo to. To weep to. Someone to whisper secrets to. someone to love her and hate her for it. Something to keep and hold close at times like this. You're never here for times like this.

She tells everyone of shared christmas and nobody cares. They don't care that she's lying. There are muscles inside of her contracting and releasing, and it's painful. She wants to vomit. wants to scream. Wants to roll into herself. wants to cut it out of herself. She shakes and no one notices, it's the normal kind.

She shuts the bathroom door and does. Not of choice, she just feels awful. A dead chance at life and too much food mixing inside of her. it poisons her body.

A girl upstairs putting on shows and everyone laughs. It reminds her of stories she's read with different kinds of girls up different kids of stairs. with different kinds of dances and different kinds of expectations.

---

a different story now:

Something inside of you makes her weep. Loves you enough to feel your pain. Reads enough to know you're the better writer, isn't jealous but is embaressed to know you read enough to know it too. Inside of her, deep deep inside of her she knows you're more than beautiful and hopes the whole world can see it too. She wants to give you book deals and popularity and a thousand things to make you prosperous. Famous. or whatever it would take to make you happy. That's all she wishes, all she hopes. And that's completely honest. completely honest.

What makes her Cum, What Makes her stay?

She finds brutality in these pages. Hard words not woven or weaved. Simply thrown. Like real words they hit and punch and slap. It's ugly. She doesn't want to go on any longer.

All The books are about a certain animal violence.

It's not what she wants. not what she wants.

With eyes still closed more than half a sleep she begins to run her hands down. Warm and happy they touch each other beneath blankets and mumbled secrets. Dirty secrets whispered into open mouths. This is how she loves him. This is how she loves him. Still sleeping she kisses his neck. shoulder. chest. hips. the valley inbetween. Thighs. Hands. arms. Back down again. She breathes him in. Loves him. She sighs as if with tears and holds him closer. pulls him closer. This is how he loves her. This is how he loves her. There is nothing carnal about this. nothing mean.

And this is where their lives begin. Where their lives end. This is where horizon meets emptiness. Meets nothing. Swallowing light. Blackness. This is where they end.

Later at night, alone, in the cold and in the dark and in a sky too full of stars she shivers with a sob. This is where they end. When hasn't he been breaking her heart? Falling in love was breaking nonetheless. She's talking to herself, as if you were there, this is what she says:

"I never thought you'd live our dream alone. I never thought i would have to be happy to see you go. I never thought you'd be the stronger one. I never thought i could be this selfish. I never thought I could be strong enough to hold back from begging you." She's never even asked. But here, with no one to hear her and no one to see her she begins. She screams:

" Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Please don't go. Don't go. Don't leave me. I need you. I need you. Please, if you've ever loved me, don't leave me. Not like this. Not ever. Please. Please."

She's worked so hard to escape this vacuum and in the process has seen everyone but herself life their lives in different places. She wants to say that everyone has always left her. Physically or otherwise. Always left her.

And some never win her back. Take that as a warning, some never win her back. they never win her back.

(what a lie. What a weakling. This one, she's weak. They always win her back.)

Literature For Hungry Eyes

Finger Fucking and fucking fingers. THis isn't touching herself anymore.

this is brutal. hateful.

cum the tears away. Depression for orgasm. That's ok.

Suicide girls. naked pictures, warm nipples on rough shirts and wet hair, wet legs.

Tounge furious and hard, demanding. feeling. fucking.

She doesn't want to talk about softness anymore. or colors. Just fantasies.

Desks and ripped buttons. Jungles and hidden viewers. Body positions and bed partners unknown. Erotica hidden in pillows. Screams for moans.

She's angry now. Wants you even more now. Badly aimed cameras and dark lace along her ass. Round and firm, those are porn words.

Will you slip your hands around her legs? to the front perhaps. Just behind perhaps. Just biting, perhaps. maybe you'll pull her against you. from behind. So she can feel you against her. Hard. THrobbing. More porn Words.

She's aching now. She's aching now. Her head is turned and with memories of you pushing into her, perhaps grunting. or biting your lip or looking down at her.

So Many "you's" in a simple fantasy. WHich is she angry at? which does she blame?

only herself. always herself. and that's why she does this. will always do this.

Hands cold now. bored. still angry. SHe sits up and waits a while longer.

Dry and unwelcoming. bored. still angry. She tries and tries and tries and never cums.

Sexy Pictures, half smiles, sleepy eyes. Yawning she forgets this...

Post Midnight Accidents

I should have been the hero. I should have been the mother. I should have been the caretaker, the savior.

I shouldn't have just walked away. driven away.

They were just kids. So stupid. Just kids.

What am? Just another cold soul. Just another mean spirit. Just another someone who can leave the scene of a crime. Not a crime. An accident.

Shaken up. Cold perhaps. The waiting music of an emergency call. I should have stayed. I should have stayed.

I am none of those. I am Sydney. Caring, guilty, overly passionate me. I felt naseous all night long. He says over phone lines "you did all you could." and he's sincere but it's a lie.

I could have stayed. Held his head in my arms. Pushed back his hair. Made promises to soothe. I could have quieted the whimpering. Like a baby he cried.

They were just kids. I should have been the adult. I should have been responsible. I should have listened to was trembling inside of me. What i knew i should have done. And what happened? i let myself be shooed away by a selfish little boy, scared i know. I watched the blinking lights of help approach. first one, then another and another. 4 or 5 at the scene by the time I reached home.

All i could think about was the mother. Phone by her side. THe rush. All i could think about were his legs. The whimpering. they were just kids.

Sleep doesn't come for hours and i wake up wanting sex to reaffirm my sense of life. sense of feeling.

It's almost noon and i'm still quite dead.

She had a dream of you. you and yours. The story lines are unclear.

Days before she had another. One of your skin. Your moans. Your hair. Your mouth. She came. The first time in days.

7 in the morning she stares at herself in the mirror. Touches her breasts. She thinks of you touching them. holding them. holding her.

Waits all day to see you. eager. instead you're cold.

Imaginary Arguments

This is how she'll beg:

Please don't leave me. I need you here. I needyou to breathe. I need you to feel. I need you to live. Please, please.

Without you i'll go back to cutting my arms. to sleeping too much. to sleeping too little. To not talking. To not eating. Please, don't leave me. Without you I'll go back to who i was. My teeth will show and no one will see. No one will see me again. No one will see me again.

Please, I need you to remind me i exist. To make me real because i can feel your hands upon me. remind me i can love by the feeling of your lips against me. Please. I'm begging. I'm begging. This is begging.

You're leaving me. You've chosen to leave me. As the nighttime wind knows, and only because i screamed at sobbed it to it alone, I never thought you'd go.

Without you i'll survive. Without you i'll improve. Without you i could glow and grow and become an entirely different person of my own making. Without you i'll move on.

I don't want to. I don't want better. I don't want worse. I want you. only you.

I take no solace in others. no comfort. They never knew what to do, what to say. They've only known to lay bare face their own miseries. Comfort in not being alone in this pain. It's a load of shit. They dole out their lives like candies. The bitterness stings. Memories not self. A slap to recover from because it was quicker acting than a soothing word or two.

No one's ever understood. no one's ever understood. You never did either, i won't lie.

But only you in your silence, your words, your hands, your eyes. Your everything. Only you could quiet this. quiet this. quiet this.

Please don't leave me for bluer skies and bigger things. Please don't leave me for wonderful chances and lifetime experiences. Please don't leave me. please don't leave please don't leave me.


And then she'll continue her ragged breathes. close her eyes. And not whisper a word.

Saturday Mornings and You're not There and my Voice Trembles. ANd i tell you you're a failure.

I'm so sick of waiting. waiting on you. waiting on you to see how much i'm hurting.

I'm sick of crying myself to sleep. that's so pathetic of me. I hate how petty i've become. i hate who i've become under your love.

I have loved you in any and every way i could have ever loved. I've taken care of you like a mother would. I've comforted you like a sister only could. I've laughed like your best friend. I've touched you like a lover.

I've loved you. loved you so much. even when i've hated you i've only ever loved you.

I'm sick of the same words playing in my head and not allowing myself to say them. "leaving me is the biggest mistake you'll ever make."

Because i've loved you deeper and more passionately than anyone will ever love you. And i know you've loved me back. Just as much.

After this you're not going to get me back. You're not going to get those same peices of yourself back.

Don't think that breaking my heart will spare yours. it won't. it isn't, is it?

I could list a million memories and moments we've made together. that would make us both cry. I'll stop. only for a moment.

You're going to see a million things in life now. Things i'll never get to show you, teach you. share with you. You're going to grow up without me. And that's the part that hurts the most.

The dreams we made together. we DREAMED together. alone.

We were going to go to paris together. we promised. We said we'd go the world together. And then we could come back home, call it our home. Move out together, carve out lives together. I couldn't live in seattle because i remember how we made plans to go.

We looked at art schools for you.

But that's ok now. that's ok.

there's a thousand more things i could say. a million contradictory feelings.

But i'll be silent for now. only a moment. silent for now.

(is it pathetic that i look to an online journal for solace? it is. it is.)

Sexual Healing

First of all i'll say: "what in yourself made you think you could be my salvation?" and then i'll Think "what in me made me think i could be saved?"

and with a flip of my long black hair, hair you once called sexy i'll climb atop you.

Maybe misery is feeding this sexual insatiability.

The other day while driving, the sun in my eyes and a self help CD playing too loudly i slipped my hand in my pants. this isn't fiction. this is truly how pathetic my life has become.

All day long i read and write sexual scenes. And then i go through completely on edge. waiting for someone to notice, to take advantage.

I feel like i'm begging you, now. "please, take off your pants off. have me" is what my hands say as they undo your belt. Pull down the zipper.

Passive depressive. That's what this is.

I want to be mean and cruel to you. Mean and cruel to you. But i can't. I want to shut you out. I can't. I want to stop wanting you, stop this last communion of our love. But i can't.

Instead of crying and begging for you to stay. This is what i'll say:






And then i'll slip my pants off, making sure to wiggle my hips. I'll spread my legs. And we'll both know i'm ready. wet. waiting. i always am. I'll lick my lips, keep my mouth part open. I'll push my shoulders back, breath a little deeper.

And really, i'll think to myself "god, i love you. I love you. I love you." and want to weep all the while.

She'll Think and Type and Plan. But Never Talk. Never Stand. Weak.

She arranges her life in alphabetical order. Like a child. Like a girl whose hated her job too long. There's silence and typing and her head is pounding. She wants to fall asleep. She wants to scream.

A is for aftermath. That is what this is. The silence due to anger. The atrophy of love.

B, such as bile. Rather than scream or cry or be as awful as she knows she can be she looks away. It builds up. In the back of her throat. waiting. Gagging. Waiting.

C for the obvious crime. But who committed it is the real issue now.

If she could say anything. If she knew the other would listen this is what she'd say:

"Because you look out for my best interests doesn't mean you respect me. You do anything but. If there has ever been anyone I’ve hid myself from it's been you."

And if the other were still silent and both their eyes were still only angry she would continue:

"You've always been the first to tell me that I am wrong. That I need to change. You have been the first to tell me I’m worthless. You don't want anyone to walk on me, to use me, but what have you done? You were always the first. Always the first"

And when the other doesn't answer the question, because it wasn't supposed to be answered, she won't stop:

"You think I am weak. You want me aggressive. But I want you to know that sometimes not saying things, not yelling or screaming, sometimes trying to be the bigger person and just let it slip on past takes just as much strength. Sometimes more. I am not weak. Even though you've been the only one to accuse me of it."

By now she'll be crying. Because anger is unmanageable and it always turns to grief. And such childish sobs will be contradictory to what she says:

"I am not weak. You cannot change me. I love you and I know you Love me but you don't know me anymore. You never have. You never have. You don't understand my fight. How I realize, comprehend and take the blame for every one of my faults. You don't see how good I’ve been at remaining a good person, good heart. You've never heard my morning thoughts. How I’ve never given up. I've never given in. I am here. And everything you've ever felt, I’ve felt ten fold. And blamed only on myself. Because that's what you taught me. That's who you taught me to be. Where you have been numb, I was sensitive. For everything you shut out I took in. If only because you wouldn't have it. Every time I tried to be angry. At you. At anyone. At the world. It could only turn inward. Why? Because I’ve been good enough. Adult enough. Strong enough. Wrong enough to be accountable for my actions. "

By now she'll be choking. Perhaps even screaming. She doesn't know what else to say. For the other has degraded even her happy memories. And only in this silence will the guilt settle in. On both parties. And hopefully it'll be night. They might be driving. So neither will see the others tears. So neither will have to breathe any longer, to touch.

And perhaps the next day She, the one who was wrong (because she is always wrong and that's what she has accepted) will be silent all day. Only venturing a whisper when forced. She'll refuse all food. Make excuses. She'll sip her own blood.

And from that moment on their relationship will be changed. Over in many ways.

Music whispered through speakers, undressing, inspecting. My body in the mirror. Full in places it shouldn't be. Dark in places i've never wanted it to be.

I'll no longer lie to myself. My entire life i've known i couldn't hold the same kind of love as golden skin. ivory. I could never envelop such pretty words, such pretty thoughts. I've always known my hair was black, wild. My eyes dark and unexpressive. never shining. I could never be fair, which at one time could have meant beautiful. I've hated who i am. And perhaps i could say by fault the of the world that's always surrounded me. The fault of everyone but me.

But this hatred is only and truly mine. And i am ashamed. More hateful of the fact that i hate myself than the actual hate.

I could never be equated with honey or shine or anything that one was supposed to be. I could never be easy to love. never be clean. unperverted. I have always been and will always be only myself.

In every one of my beauties i see fault. I feel fault. wishing and hoping in the most secret and shameful of ways that maybe i could change. maybe i could change.

It seems so complicated.

Seperate and never the same. That's how i've always felt. Always felt.

And this is no pity post. do not think of me different.

Just thinking. always thinking. that maybe i've always bene in love with all the wrong words. words i could never be. words that none will ever love me for.

Because i am only darkness. I am only this.

Not ever exotic. enchanting. intoxicating.

Only this. dowdy. ugly. undefined. dark.

Isn't it sunday? hasn't the day been whiled away in bed? Haven't you kept your eyes dry and what's inbetween your legs moist?

Do you find that vulgar? perhaps obscene?

as the heater cools only do shivers of heat reach me. straight to my head. feeling faint. This part is literal, no longer sexual. I feel feverish. I have cramps at a time i shouldn't. My arms have goosebumps.

It's this sort of melting and aching i now associate with love.

Like a Shattered glass, a million reflections of the most beautiful things.

Your head rests on my legs. warm and slow. you lap me up as i melt. i sigh and sigh and your eyes closes, tounge extended.

I'm tired now. I'm always tired, have you noticed? i hold your hands, stroke your fingers, your body is smooth against mine. thin and giving, you're always so giving.

I think of tears. smooth and cold, blue perhaps. instead i pull you up to meet my face. and our bodies meet again and again. rocking and shaking and you know my rhythm by now. my heart aches and my hands pull you closer. closer. i'm kissing your neck and i almost want to fall asleep.

You're golden in the light.

You kiss me. kiss me. Soft and moist. long, deep. just like i wanted. you're going slow now. just like i wanted.

you're moaning like whispers. i breathe them in. swallow them down. I love this most. the way your heart beats against my bare chest.

My legs wrap around you tighter, pushing more. as i come. and to sound cliche, in waves. it starts out as something small. startling, surprising. shooting through my entire body, pulling down my eyelids, closing my hands, arching my back. everything pulls in. I pull in. in. in. in. like screams i keep secret. And then, another cliche, it explodes. I think of colors. rainbows, fireworks. LIke a secret i've always kept. I'm released. My fingers loosen, toes uncurl, eye roll upwards. collapse. every muscle relaxes and the pleasure, like a liquid drug. Thick and heavy. coursing through my veins. like maple syrup dripping onto expectant tounges.

THe moans are deeper now. you're deeper now. and when you raise my hips to meet yours there is no resistance. I writhe in your grip. and then you come too. beautiful. even when fully lit. all flaws only magnify.

Here you are, my love, wrapped in my arms, legs, body. My face in the nook of your neck where i fit perfectly, oh, just perfectly. I'm breathing you in. in. in.

Come Closer. Come Closer.

Watched a movie. It was set in paris. They were in love. they talked and talked and talked the way we never have. About things we always think about.

Shivered there as they kissed on screen and found myself to be tearing.

Who knew impending goodbye could be so unforgiving? so awful...

I don't want to tell anyone because i feel so weak and silly. But it feels like a secret i shouldn't keep. I'll whisper it here, to you now, not to be judged. not to be laughed at. but to be heard. I can't be alone anymore. I can't tell the one who needs to hear, won't ever tell him. A secret? I cry every day now. whole tears and whole sobs. I scream all the while. sometimes twice a day.

and there's only one reason. one cause. one thought that brings this. each and every time. even in the the public dark.

You're leaving me. I'm leaving you.

And i'm not sure how to be alone again. how to not love again. how to go through life with everything so meaningless.

Throughout the breakup that's what i realized. that's what i saw for the first time.... Every thing i did, everything i saw, was completely meaningless without you to share it with.

I think of the things i'll wear and the place i'll stay and get to call my own. I think of how i'll decorate or dance or read or sleep. And it's nothing without you. I'm nothing without you.

To Live

There's a book so beautiful it makes me want to weep. it makes my heart ache. That's how wonderful. The words, the letters, the syllables. erotic beyond comprehension.

It makes me want to kiss someone. To have my lips -- no -- my soul touch another's. I want to feel a body against mine. To hold them to me. closer. closer. I want to keep my eyes closed all the while. But watch all the while. I want to make love again.

This story inspires me. Makes me want to whisper. To feel the tears roll down my face. As the words wind and weave i'm forced to feel so much more than life has allowed me to feel.

I want to touch something golden. or warm. or fluid. or deep. something wonderful. I want to come face to face with this feeling within in.

I feel as if the right hands could pick me up in such a way that it could pour out of me. pour. pour. pour. A beautiful ceramic vase. delicate and thin. in sunlight. with intricate patters etched into it's side. Cream colored and blinking. inviting. feeling more real than anything solid. pour. pour. pour. Water into water, soft and flowing. Blue and white and pink and purple. every color to catch the eye. Magical. singing a soothing rhythm. pour. pour. pour.

I feel so empty and full. Like i'm forgetting and remembering. needing and taking. caressing. sensual. happy and sad. proud and ashamed. a million contradictory emotions filling me. leaving me.

I'm breathless. I'm crying. I'm sobbing. and in this pain is life. it is pulsation. throbbing. trembling with life. pour. pour. pour.

Like running after sunset skies. This feeling of free falling. of air rushing past. of eyes closed. like losing myself to find me. like the ground rushing past and heart rushing past. and it's like moaning. that pleasurable. moaning. high and low. high and low. lose to find. sunset pink. like the world at my fingertips. brushing each crevice. each mountainous bump. gliding through each ocean and lake. feeling. feeling. every sense alive. alive. Awakened. Berathing. The whole world coming in and feeling it. Feeling every bit of it.

eyes closed. eyes closed.
pouring. pouring. pouring.
Breathing. feeling. moaning.
Living. oh god, living.
Eyes closed. Eyes Closed.

It's all coming in now. all coming in now.

Selective Theorizing

Sometimes i watch these tv shows. and there's this filter on my brain. I can only see, only pick up the parts that i want to see.

love. marriage. heartbreak.

I feel like... A person grows up and realizes they want something in their life... be it children or a wife or whatever. They realize they want it, that they have room in their hearts for that one specific thing. And at first i tcould be a distant fantasy of "someday" and that's acceptable.

But then too quickly that space realized becomes a hole. A hole in one's life. in their heart. And so with their entire being they're able to want and ache and hurt over something they've never truly had.

Sure, it's coming too fast, at the wrong times in life. A thousand other reasons that all point to no.

But there's still that emptiness. Still that achey pain

Another Complaint

I'm so sick of this.

so so sick of this.

sick of being angry and bitter and sad. of being hopeless and mean and moody.

i'm so sick of being what i am. I'm so sick of all my insides. my comfort levels. the life i've built around me.

I'm just so sick. so sick. so sick.

3 months. 3 months. 3 months.


like a torture plaing in my mind over and over again. 3 months. 2 and a half hours a day. 5 on weekends.

for 3 more months.

and all of a sudden i was choking on tears in darkness on phone lines again. again again.


3 months.

i'm so sorry i can't be happy. so sorry.

Halloween

And his tongue touched her lips
Warm and moist. Hard and soft. Giving and taking.
Making her moan
Low and well felt.
Trembled.

She wanted him to hold her kiss her have her
Entirely
For all eternity.

She wanted to run her hands up his legs
To where he wants it most,
Wants to be touched most,
To have him. Have him. Have him.
Passionately
For a thousand forevers

All past lovers, barely lovers,
Bedmates with inadequate hands
A distant shame.
A memory from another girl,
A dirty girl.
A girl with no heart and no discretion and all because he was gone.
But he's here now, back now, shhh.
No sobs now, here in her arms now.

And the light is midnight blue
And she wants to whisper,
"Tie my hands.
Blindfold me.
Have me."

She surrenders to him.
Surrender, surrender,
Oh, sweet surrender.

And the water rushes in.

Love of a Seashell

contasting colors. fingers stained. the words "caress" on my lips.

I wanted you to hold me to you. tightly. act like you could be whole with me again.

Alone again hands in secret places and feeling unfufilled. always.

I colored slowly. you're the artist. you're the artist. my hands fail me now. they fail me. and teh words go coursing through my mind and i'd rather write instead.

I go to teh computer, heart and head empty. Back to bed. i touch myself again.

I don't know what i want. don't know what i need.

I think of colors. dark and light or a beautiful word like hyacinth.

blue.

the chalk left me unamused. would rather paint with blood and tears and blackness.

stiflingly hot. shivering cold. all in a moment.

can barely breathe. that's ok. dirty hair. dirty hair. dirty fingers.

Don't you want to touch me? don't you want to make me cum? don't yo uwant to show that you love me?

I just wanted your hands on my hips like you're never let me go. I wanted fierceness. or tenderness. or anything that could be called something.

no more middle ground. lukewarm. mediocre. unexpressed.

I'm vain. i wanted you to look at me. draw me. paint me. in a million colors. a million times. I wanted your eyes to never leave my body. even if you're only looking at the curves, if only looking at the object.

I wanted you to take me and to have me. I wanted you to be my master. so i could belong to you. belong to you again.

I'm chained.

I kissed your upturned palm, breathless with almost tears in my eyes. your wrist. your forearm. your inner elbow. the muscles of your forcep. your shoulder. your back. your neck. Moaning i kissed you moved to tears with love.

you lay there unaffected.

knees. calves. inner thigh. hips. the indent of your ribs. the middle of your chest where i'm sure your heart lay not feeling a thing. your collar bone. your lips again.

you shrugged away.

But you were hard anyway.

I climbed on top and you let me. we moved and moved and moved and still you didn't kiss me. I didn't mind.

I just want you to love me always.

I came in breaths that sounded and felt like sobs. you rolled me away, still hard, condom still on.

Kissed the top of my head like a child. I whispered "i love you" and you said "i love you too." and i slept with my back to you all night.

in the morning you were less loving.

portraits and pastels

Life... sucks. end of story. just like that. just like that.

i'm cold too often.

i wrote a journal along my blanket using my fingers to trace the words. no one saw. adam left, didn't say goodbye.

I made him mad. didn't say sorry. won't say sorry.

no big surprise, just big drama.

i need to get out of here. out of here. out of here.

I need to leave this behind, leave him behind.

So fuckign what if without him i feel meaningless. scared. i don't want heart break anymore. i don't want it anymore. How can i just give up? give up without even trying. without even trying.

how can i try if i know it's doomed?

I love him. I love adam. love love love love love. i promise i do.

The Crimes I've Committed

So it's night time. night before my birthday. i have the worlds most wonderful family. the greatest friends. the sweetest boyfriend. and it feels like life should be great right now, right?

like the depression, my "rut," my "funk" should lift, right?

well it's still teh night before and it's anythign but.

it's accentuated.

I lay there, past midnight, alone, can't sleep. all i can think is "oh the ills i've done." ANd i feel so awful guilty.

Forget anything and everything that's ever been done to me, the crimes committed against my person.

But oh god, what have i done to the people around me? what?

I don't think i've ever pretended to think i was perfect, my flaws always so much more obvious to me than anyone else, but god. oh god.

It's people like her, like them that make me like this. Make me feel like maybe life isn't worth it, that dealing isn't worth it.

In the end i always know it's my fault. what awful evils have i done? what evils have i done?

First Tiffany, then Robbie, now Lysa.

what have i done? how mean have i been? so hateful?

And i feel downright terrible.

THe wrongs i've done that can no longer be avoided and cannot be addressed. 18 full years of life and i feel like maybe i'm not deserving. forget if i've wanted them or not. but have i deserved them?

I'll be honest, i'm spoiled. so awful awful awful spoiled. i won't tell anyone what i got for my birthday cause i feel like i should be ashamed. I'm fucking rotten. grateful for what's been given to me but so undeserving. so undeserving.


Come mid morning i was fine. all kinds of birthday happys.

I'm scared. really downright awful scared.

Sensitive

Here's a letter to you. But don't be too vain. don't think you matter too much.

My room is a mess. There are holes in the walls everywhere. I've listened to Jewel more than my fair share of handful of times. I haven't showered. i won't tell you how long it's been.

First thing first: I want to tell you about Adam. About how much i love him. how i need him. how a lot can be said for dependancy. Without him i won't exist. i won't exist.

He kiss all along my back today. in the sunshine. soft lips. warm face. like i was fucking beautiful he kissed me. Shoulders. neck. spine. all the right places.

We fucked every day for a week straight. It was always slow. maybe a little boring. A little long but i didn't mind. Each time i forced an orgasm. And then i lay at the brink of tears. After he cums he dresses himself and goes to the bathroom. If he doesn't and tries to hold me it makes my skin crawl. and i cringe away. yea, just like i did with you. He takes the hint.

I don't know whats wrong with me anymore. I really don't.

I keep thinking about a handful of years ago and i'm clinging more than i usally cling (and i usually do a lot). I know i'm distancing myself. I know i'm no longer really close to anyone. In my small baby step way i'm pushign and pushing and pushing. Nothing big. nothing too hard. pushing pushing pushing.

I'm scared. so scared. I love too much andthat scares me.

I'm back to who i was a month ago. I want to move in with him. I want him to coddle me everynight. I want to go to sleep with company. I want breakfast. i want lunch. I want too much. always too much. That's why i shouldn't do this.

why i shouldn't try to develop friendships. relationships. anything resembling a ship. I want too much. i storm too hard. and i love too much. i need too much. and then what happens? I don't know. i don't know. i don't know. i fuck up. i always do. i fuck up.

and they can't have me anymore. can't give to me cause it hurts to see me hurt and they don't have what i want. don't have magic and answers. and it hurts to know i'm dissappointed. hurts. i hurt the people around me. i hurt them.

I'm so sorry. i never really meant to. i'm sorry. sorry sorry sorry.

But that ended. ended. What's the game now? distance. get too close. get too far.

like childhood nightmares.

I'm constantly paranoid of being raped. in a way that i let control me. My heart races when i see cop cars, empty streets, men in general. I don't know why.

i know i had seconds and thirds. to my indirect address. i nkow there was more. but i'm tired. so tired. so tired.

please, honey, baby, count up my words. with blood mend them. place them. wrap me in blankets and love me.

How Long Can I Remember?

This is time for reform. THis is time for new games. new people. new places.

This is time for work. for dedication.

I'm closing this screen (for now). I'm signing off. I'm turning over. I'm pulling the blankets down.

It's timef or cleaning. for working. for running and washing and it's time for ambition.

I need goals. i need pathways. I need determination.

Here's me. ready for change. Here's me. working for change.

Soon enough i'll be out of here and all of you (almost all of you) will just be a faded memory.

I won't have to hate you anymore. avoid you anymore. turn you down anymore.

not anymore.

Maybe i can live. maybe i can love. Maybe i can keep the good people in my life and once and for all let go of all of you that kept me here. kept me here. kept me here.

here in a place of nothing. in a place of me being nothing.

Thank you for teaching me about life. thank you for being a bitch. a hater. an asshole. thank you.

Because i know now. i know now. I know that i'm ready to be ok. that i'm not as awful as you make me. that i'm not as mean as you see me.

I have good parts too. soft parts. love parts.

Of course i'm not perfect, never pretended to be. never pretended to be.

But i can stand. stand.

both feet on teh ground, knees stretched, thighs strong.

stand. stand.

It's time for me to stand.

Find myself without the confines of you.

The so many yous i've let rule my life.

Monday Night Passion

Hold a match to my flame.

add to the fire. add to the fire.

make me burn.

I'm burning for you.

inside me. fucking me. fucking me. fucking me.

Together everythign is hottness and softness and tumbling and rumbling and grumbling.

and my pants are always down with my legs wrapped around you.

and my shirts always up with my arms wrapped around you.

because that's how much i love you. i love you. i love you.

THat's how much i love you.

cold drive. cold fingers. cold roads

and the cold cold moon. She's crying now. crying now.

Driving away. driving away.

Always alone, you're not where she's heading but you'll always be her home.

you're not so far away but why not here? why not here? You'll always be her home.

everything.

And she's leaving you, turning her back, starting the engine, leaving you.

And she'll always turn back. she'll always look over her shoulder. always remember you. Always love you

The Horses Ran By

I was going to call you but i knew you wouldn't answer. I went through my mental phone book. Empty again.

I just wanted someone. No one important really. Someone to just be with. Talk with. I wanted to go exploring. go find an adeventure. I wanted to stumble upon something beautiful, anything really.

This morning in the sun light i considered going out but mostly as an excuse to dress myself.

I want to do all these wonderful, majestic, breath taking things.

And i don't want to do them alone.

I want someone to be there, through all of it, always. I want someone to make me exist.

Because everything i've ever felt, everything i've done and seen and heard and thought about...

None of it exists if it isn't shared with someone else.

THere's no proof it was only ever just me.

I wanted to write you an email. to tell you that when i was a kid i moved a handful of times and even now, so grown in life, I feel like i'ven't ever made solid relationships. Anyways, as a kid i would lie a lot. I mean, how would they know, right? How could anyone know... Lying is of no consequence if you can't be proven wrong.

Everything i've done and everythign i've said i am could be an absolute and total lie.

And maybe it is.

Maybe i'm only everything that everyone has taught me to be.

I want to exist out side of myself.

I want you to tell me i'm beautiful again because then it could be a sort of truth.

I wantyou here again and so i can love, laugh, hate, and live. And because of you, know that it all realy happened.

I don't feel lost. I don't feel alone. I don't feel empty. But maybe that's not a good thing. Maybe all of those lead to growth.

Because i know where i am: no where. I know who surrounds me: friends and friends i don't realy know. I know what fills me: hatred. anger. but mostly failure.

I am passionless with a passion. I'm mellow. but mostly blue.

berry.

I play too many video games. I watch TV too often. I'm something i don't even like anymore.

I'm on the internet too much but i'm barely on relatively.

I'm just waiting for the first move. just waiting. just waiting.

If you would listen, if anyone would, i'd talk for hours about Kevin. About all my theories and untheories on him. I'd say every feeling i had for him. I would relate every experience we shared and didn't share.

And maybe then i'd be over it. But i know i won't be. I never really am. Over any of them, really.

do you want a list? Here's in order: Jeremy, edmund, weekend, jason, lerch, kevin, adam, milo, casy. All the boys.

but none of them really count.

No one really counts anymore. No one. not anyone. not anymore. nothing nothing nothing. I feel like if i coudl just repeat it enough times in a day they everything would be alright.

nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing.

like therapy. like consolation.

nothing. nothing. nothing.

I think of sound proof rooms with white walls in palo alto. With leaves along teh sidewalk and sunshine, always sunshine. A few windows, a fan. soundproof. scrabble. needy eyes. couches. chairs. papers.

nothing nothing nothing nothing.

A girl with a spongebob shirt. The hallways. The yellow pad of paper where jagged things took form. The songs we listened to. Hearing girls about anorexia. A girl named robin. Or maybe i've pretended her name.

nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothingnothingnothing

in a movie i heard them talk of a medication i used to take. I think it was the pink one.

there was pink and white and more white. more blue. I don't quite remember it was so long ago. I barely think about it now. I don't know why i am now.

nothing nothing nothing nothing

as if i could soothe away something that i'm not even feeling into a sort fo afternoon sleep.

that you'll never disrupt with your call. that you'll never disrupt with your warmth.

Sometimes i fall asleep only hoping i'll wake with you there.

nothign nothing. always the same things. always that same nothing.

I don't even know what i'm talking about anymore. I don't remember when it switched to first person. or if i ever started with third at all. I don't know why i'm talking and i don't know why i have no personal secrets.

Let me tell you now. I have no secrets. None.

there is no darkness inside of me. i have no reason to complain.

Just a want. just a need. just an urge.

Don't fool yourself.

I'm no poet. no writer. no story teller. word weaver.

I'm just a slut with a longing and a kayboard. Just a fuck with too many words left behind. A relationship drawn on far too long.

Justify My Love

She sucked him off. Even after he came. because she wanted to.

reapplied her lipstick before work, straightened her skirt.

Her lips are red and almost lucsious. She's dying to be touched.

by a woman.

She lets her hips swing and all she can think is of the time when one them said "you just seem really tall." and she was flattered.

She knows she should change it, gets lazy. lets the blood soak in.

She's worn high heels every day this week, loves the way they make her legs look.

She's singing and happy and almost ashamed.

She's thinking of one of her firsts. how she wants to live life closer. have him see her. once in a lifetime chance. Wants him to fall in love all over again. Wants to prove to herself that true love couldn't possibly exist. but lets stop being stupid, she knows it's not him. he's just another open book she regrets never finishing (regrets never fucking).

let's not lie. She's horny.

SHe wants to be abused.

She wants to have scratch lines on her back, bite marks on her shoulder. bruises on her thighs.

She wants to be fucked. fucked. fucked.

And she almost wants to cry all the while.

well now, isn't that fucked.

She feels hard. jagged. rough. tough.

wants her best to see and say "god, you're sexy."

She wants to rip off her clothes and be a sort of tigress.

SHe wants to be carniverous.

She wants to scream.

scream
scream
scream

loudly.
with passion.

over and over
again

until her throat is raw and bleeding.
until her eyes run black with tears.
until she has this thing

this thing inside of her
this awful thing there, inside her

gone.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden (1907-1973)

I'm not going to ask because I'm not ready for the answer.

I'm going to stop myself because i've never been able to distance from you but you've always been able to from me.

That is no fault on your part. only mine.

Close my eyes. Close my eyes. Close my eyes.

This no longer exists. This doubt is imaginary.

I won't say a word any longer. not to you. not a slip. not an implication.

I'm not ready for the truth.

Even not hearing it i'm scared and hurt. By you.

I know you'll agree with him. I know you'll tell me.

My insecurities are far too great for friendship.

for dependance.

step back. step back. step back.

Where do i stand? what do i say?

I'll hold myself a moment longer and then i'll walk away.

Then i'll walk away and you'll simply be another one i'll always miss.

Love Letter to My Laura

She's scared. So scared.

and she thought about you all night. How you're beautiful and sometimes she'll want to cry when she thinks how you said they love only out of saddness.

Maybe that is it.

But love is love all the same, isn't it?

She figured it out. Why they could never stay too close always. She saw it last time you were together. She saw you out of the corner of her eye looking out the window. You were both silent in a fearful misery.

You know what it was? You just couldn't ever let go. neither could she.

You saw each other too clearly. knew what was behind every smile. what was the true meaning of every laugh. knew that if you believed in karma you'd understand that for every time one loved in public they truly hated in private. That's why.

Let's drop all pretenses.

When I was with other people I could forget who i was. Forget about it. let it go. let it go. let myself go. Let everything i knew i was go. Leave it behind. For nights at a time i could go screaming. loving. crazying. For so long i could abandon what was inside of me. I could ignore my heart. And of course that was wonderful. of course that was fun. But with you, you were too much of myself. Looking at you was mirror like.

I fucking love you. there is NO denying that.

But sometimes i'm afraid of the power you have over me that you don't even realize. That you don't even realize.

Sitting there in the car with you, mostly quiet with sad songs to fill the air it was alway more hurtful. it was always such misery.

But not because of you.

Because of me. I could be truly be myself. The deepest darkest scariest parts of myself fully realized. and that isn't a bad thing.

People think we bring one another down. Feed off of one another's depression. But i don't think that's what it is at all... that with each other, we no longer had to hide.

And for that I thank you. As affectionately as i can muster. I am grateful. For every moment i was angry at you. that you were angry at me. that i was sad because of you and you because of me. for all the tears we shed and all the blood too. For everytime we "vented" about each other but were really talking shit. every time you hurt me. and well, not for the times i hurt you cause that i can say i truly regret. But for everything. everything. everything. Thank you for hating me. and thank you for the times i hated you.

Because through it all, all, through it all i loved you.

And it's been a different kind of love than i've had with anyone else.

A Very Bitter Entry I'll Regret Later On

Well hello kids and welcome to the Sydney Show.

Yup, comes up about once a month where sydney is raging bitch and rants about pointless crap that bothers her.

try this one on for size... sometimes i want to go into detail about how he fucks me. How i love it. How he always knows where to put his hands and he can make me cum. cum. cum. cum. cum for days.

and it isn't even just fucking. it's LOVING. fits just right, doesn't it. Because things can get so passionate i'm moaning before he even touches me.

sounds like fun. doesn't it.

oh, and by the way, to a she. I hate you. I fucking hate you. You're unfair and mean and awful. and so what if i'm all of those things too. So what.

hey guys? yea in a couple of days i'm getting a new phone number. Don't expect to get it if there's an offchance i'm ready to cut you out of my life.

Cause there most definately comes a time when you really truly appreciate the people that bring security or happiness or anything worthwhile into your life. Cause i can say that I fucking love whole heartedly a handful of people that really do a lot for me. And i can also say that there're people that i have let bring me down for far too long. far. too. long.

and it's time for that to stop.

A List of Completely Unrelated Thoughts

She feels vulgar surrounded by sweet sounding girls. She holds her tounge. Isolationism.

In the back row again, head against desk, a nightmare comes.

their hands are furious and she's aching for him.

Her body rocked to no rhythm and she watched the world move around her.

Everything went in slow motion. at sixty miles an hour. The sound of the road too loud for conversation.

Peices of red around her neck like glass. like love. like attempts at "ok."

Wet Chair, wet hair, her light brown hair and it's softness.

She planned a talk all night and instead gave him head. Wonderfully. beautifully.

falling or forcing.

sister to sister talks and a new realization.

regression amongst high heels and tank tops. 13 years, she thinks. 13 years gone.

Thrown desk, drowning anger, a dragon never found. weakness in it's place.

A hole as consequence of fucking instead of fixing.

Dark chocolate cake, sweet and moist that makes her heart ache.

Boys yelling from car windows and she feels appreciated.

Another begging long distance for stories and phone sex and then emotional break throughs.

Another with white flowers on in days and sweet kisses, backrubs, trying for love again. They still love each other but are no longer loving.

She wants to feel whole again.

She considers crying for the first time since reunion. Now, the first time after late night car exchanges of love. She moaned for his pleasure. She gave for her own.

A bit of him swallowed. A bit of his life that's hers forever. The taste still coating her mouth.

She finally tells him the moment she knew she loved him and he doesn't remember.

She comes home, shirt in hand.

Doesn't call back. Doesn't well wish. Not her habit But she shrugs it away.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him and instead saw another.

"the night is young" she thinks and they act like adults carefully placing each item of clothing neatly. Where they'll remember for later on.

Only 30 minutes wasted.

The moment he's done is the the moment he closes. Pulls up, protected. She almost likes it better that way.

She still wishes for nights in his arms and comfort. But only a little because she can't take the pain.

No gain.

She wants to weep to your love but she feels too needy to call, instead reads your blog. She Loves you.

She envisions herself beautiful in white and is suddenly afraid that if they die together no one will know her death wishes.

At night she goes home, undresses, holds a stuffed animal and sleeps. like a child. With inanimate softness as consolation. She's afraid and for the first time in her life uses a comfort objest. Shame.

No Money, No gas, and Nothing to wear.

She never got to tell anyone of her breaking moment against white marble with the background retching. She didn't tell of her break apart. But it's over now.

Her eyes feel dry and she closes them. Closes them. Closes them. She closes.

new shoes.

Everyone says they knew we'd get back together. a part of me knew it too.

But i'm not always sure it's what's best. i mean, the night before we did i was sure. and that's the last time i was.

I've said i'm ready to fall in love again. but that was a lie. Such a lie. I mean, i want to. who doesn't. But there are moments adam and i are together and it should be one of those moments, you know the type, complete with heart flutter and gasp?

but it isn't there anymore. not at all. and i don't know if it's because it's lost between us. or if it's there and i'm not allowing myself to feel it. or if i'm just incapable of feeling it. Feeling love. That part of love that i wanted most.

There's no more spark. excitement. no more... something. and all of a sudden i'm afraid i'll never feel it again. i know i'm being stupid and i'm bound to... but i feel like a part of me that had that has closed off. closed down.

and i want to say i'm happy back as a girlfriend. but i'm not. I mean, i'm not completely on the ground miserable anymore. i'm this mediocre barely feeling thing. And i guess that's ok. that's ok.

I'm waiting for something to inspire me. To inspire real feeling inside me. music, movies, books, anything... TO make me really happy. make me really sad. really in love. really angry. really heartbroken. Anything again.

I tell myself if i wait, give it time, babysteps, things will grow with adam. grow back to what they were. and that's sort of what i'm holding on for. but what if it doesn't?

at first i told myself he wasn't feeling those things. Wasn't doing those things. But he is. And it was just a cop out so i could blame our lacking on him. not me. But it *is* me.

my heart is still his but not in the same ways. I love him. i want to take care of him. in a forever sort of way. but... am I in love with him? will i be again?

I know this is such a tired subjct. so old and over it. but fucking hell did anyone really think i could let it go? haha. nah.

And Sometimes her Heart is Too Big

I wanted to tell you that you don't matter. that you're awful.

but i don't care enough about you. i don't love enough to hate you. Funny, isn't it? The way things change and how many times you really can fuck up.

I planned on telling you that i was as good to you as i knew how to be, that i always offered myself up. always offered a hand-meal-dollar. Because i thought you were worth it. Because you evoked a sort of sympathy in me. a sort of humanity. I wanted to take care of you.

But i give up. Here's my towel, here's my shoulder, another shrug and you'll be gone.

because you don't matter to me.

If i were angry i'd demand "how dare you?!" i'd take back all the things i know you still have that are mine. I'd offcially denounce you to the world. I'd withdraw every pep talk, support talk, inspiration attempt i ever wasted on you. But you can have them. It's not worth the fight.

I don't even care enough to think of you as a waste of a person. I hold so little for you. not affection. not anger. nothing.

and that's barely surprising.

you're a slut. a bitch. I mean it but without passion. Close your legs, lose some weight, end the pity party cause i'll tell you, we're all sick of it. Sick of it. Stand up. Stand tall. but you can't. you're incapable. And maybe that's sad.

and that's barely surprising.

Here's a toast to another buried friendship. Another worthy one you've lost. Because i'll tell you, I was the best you were ever going to get.

When Days are This Grey I Want Someone To Look Forward To

I fell asleep in his arms with the cold inching from his window. My body collapsed, walls forgotten. Was this in love again?

As much as she says her heart is broken she'll always hope for sparkle. for magic.

Do you remember those nights? the nights when believing hurt too much? I'd call you in tears. sobbing. like a child. barely conscience i'd unload. unload.unload. because what if, oh god no but what if there were no such thing? What if that deep rolling in the sky was simply just that? what if love was simply just that?

Do you remember when she needed you to tell her that you loved her? Those nights were worst. those are the ones she remembers most. wiping away her tears in the mirror razor in hand defeat in heart.

Now you say you want magic. now you say that you believe.

Honey, come find me. come find me again. come bring me home.

A vow, A Promise. A Word to Decline By.

Her world revolves around sex now. no surprise. no epiphany. she's only almost ashamed. she doesn't know if she does it out of love. or for attention. or to hide something even worse.

maybe she just likes the way she can feel. in that moment. in those moments.

there's a party tonight. She knows she won't be seen. She knows midway she'll come into her room, crawl into her bad, fall asleep as the people come in and out. She thinks of all her friends and wants to get drunk.

Laura leaves tomorrow. I haven't seen her. I know i won't. I guess that's the good thing about having a best friend you weren't best friends with most of the time. Because missing her is nothing new. not having her is nothing new. We can do things like not talk or see each other. Know we're still loved. I think...

she wakes up past noon after a night of... doing things she's too embaressed to say and there's no water in the house. nothing to wash the sin away. Double sin.

she wanted him to fuck her. go ahead, flinch at the word. she wants you to make her cry. more than all the fantasies she tells all the boys she wants you, you to fuck her. hard. mean. while tears come. while you cum. Cause maybe then she could feel like she loves you enough.

And She Knows She'll Turn the Light off and Her World will Continue to Turn

She looks at her reflection from afar and she's pretty for a moment again. She looks good in black. always has. Her face childish. her lips womanly. her eyes beseeching. Face tilted down just waiting. always waiting.

she thinks of other times she's watched herself in this mirror.

the way their naked bodies intertwined. Her dark to his light. THe curves of her own feminity. the moans, the waves, the way she moved just so to see her body like that. Her hips tilted forward, legs spread, atop him. She can't look when alone.

She thinks of last night.

The way her eyes were swollen. face red. old and puffed. tired and afraid. She was closer to the mirror then, could see the flaws in her face. SHe looked herself in the eye several moments, questioned what she was doing. commanded the tears to stop.

the music quiets and she gives one last look. Her heart beats harder a moment or two. This is how she wants to always be.

She has nothing to write tonight. no cold to complain of.

because she's cried for hours but everything is ok now. she's happy. she's happy. maybe not a hundred percent. but the first step is there and i think i'm ready to keep on walking.

And apart of me knows it's all owed to one. a boy. not the in the pants kind. because she loves him. and not in the pants kind. And she's grateful. always grateful.

here's a parting thought:

"the car windows down, the smell of rain, the feeling of freedom. And she realizes she may not have another moment like this for the rest of her life. And she's glad to have him there beside her, loving it just as much. Loving everything and nothing just as much. they scream and dance and she knows he's wonderful."

Late Nights and Late Days and then Blood for Comfort

Come on now, let's be honest. She doesn't like feeling put off. who does? who's ok with that? She always told herself she would be, now thinking she likes to tell herself she doesn't mind. but come on, come on. She doesn't like being second best. especially not third or fourth. and fifth? you've got to be kidding me. Believe me, if she's not first or second, and second only if you hide the first, on your list then she will most definately care. Maybe she won't admit it. Maybe she'll deny it. But let's be honest now... She likes to top a list of priorities. She likes her needs met. She likes feeling important. crucial. needed. She likes to think that without her the world just won't function. that minutes will not pass and if they just so happen to without her, you're heart, it'll break.

Let's put this into perspective. Best friends. everyone has them blah blah blah. wonderful. love blah blah. she wants to know if a best is best and how she places on their lists. Because if she's not your number one there's no way in hell she'll admit you're hers. even if you are. Oh, indeed not. You either need her or reject her. bottom line. Another perspective. Lovers. Boyfriends. call them what you will. Of course she understands the way it should be. it should be as follows: Family, friends, school, work, and then her. That's number 5. that's pretty measly. that's pretty low. Don't wonder of her order. It's based around sillies. Either way, she knows how it really is. but maybe, just maybe, she wants to feel like a higher number, a better ranking. Who ever said anything about 136?

She should most definately be important, i'll tell you that. I mean, she deserves it, right? she likes to think she does. well, only on really good days. that or really really bad days. But, back to the honesty thing? She so doesn't. She expects world revolutions and orbits with her as your sun. Nice thought, isn't it? All you denizens, peasents, plebians. You are the planets to her all encompassing star. Elliptical, not circular. Coming closer every so often, every one turning at a slightly different pace. Some with their own moons and planets. Hm, that's be a nice metaphor if phrased differently. But it isn't. Nothing poetic about it. Just a silly thought... We can put rings around the fattest and call him saturn. and he'll turn and turn and turn. For her.

Now thinking, planets make really great analogies to people. Generic people but people nonetheless. Saturn with his icy border, protection and barrier. Mars with red eyes and almost habitable speculatable surface. Perhaps Mars could be the almost that doesn't count. You know, the one that has all the right qualtities that doesn't ever click. Shall she go on? The sun can be the love of your life. Once it's over everything else gets sucked into a black hole infinity into nonexistance. Wow. once the life giving light (inspiration perhaps?) and then the murderer. murderess, really.

but aside from people pirouetting around one another, back to the topic, back to the list of things she does and doesn't like. Here's something to ponder: Were you ever really ready to make her your one and only?

Sedna

Found Poem
written 03/17/04
from: SF Chron. 03/16/04
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2004/03/16/MNGGM5LMCU1.DTL&hw=Farthest+Object+in+Solar+System&sn=001&sc=1000

Sitting so quietly with the
silence ripping at my eardrums
while spring warmth oozes away.

"The farthest object
in the solar system..."

you whispered
with stabbing eyes.

It was found.
I cannot find you...

You're cold
like your precious cloud,
artic goddess.
ice goddess.
You could be her Ice King.

Because you,

You are the making
of stars, comets,
long lasting images
embedded into eyelids.

Magnified
and i've looked so close
i could see,

see the window that leads
to your soul

the fossil window of time.

But here,
across the table
or 8 billion miles away,

floating with her.
Your Sedna.

Too high and mighty
for my warmth,
beauty,
Touch.

The ice age came,
killing off my dreams,
forsting your eyes
and then you cam around,
just as the waters flowed.

This is the closest you'll get,
Because you've begun to drift.

When can i see you?
When can I love you?

5,000 years from now on
the shores of hawaii,
squinting,
for your light?

For your distant affection?

To Crush Beneath Your Hands.

Her body. It trembles. Shivers in the cold.

She is nothing she has tried to be. Nothing she has told you. She lied when she said "course."

I've tried so hard to be strong. to be hard. But no, i am nothing.

She lies and lies and you fall.

My bones are weak, frail. I am weak. frail. easy builing. easy breaking.

Her eyes are closed and she blocks away the tears. She's always been cities crashing.

I have no cosolation. no comfort. no warm place. no home.

She's losing sigh of things, easily discouraged. Where's her shoulder now. Where's her walls and the pick up talks. where's her steadfast faith?

These are weak sighs that i brethe. disgusted. pathetic. sad. a word in a language i don't know with no english translation. it sounds like sobs.

Her body trembles. shivers. cold.

Her Spot Upon this Ledge

She's too course to paint the picture you wanted. To tell you something full of grace and beauty and soft whiteness. to tell you something of the sweet sort of ache she feels inside. She wanted to describe the colors she ached for. the feelings.

she wanted there beauty in pain. the purest kind. trembling stars and tears od diamonds. she wanted to talk of love and hearts and beating together again. of swans and feathers and lightness.

she's too mean now. too jaded. too rough. Too black and hard and she wants to be cutting again.

But she wants to tell you of the word ethereal. of glitter. of soft winds. of the feeling of lace and satin against bare skin. she wants to tell you about somethign singular and wonderful. something worth falling in love with.

But she can't. She doesn't have it inside her anymore. and maybe that's the scariest part of all.

And she did it all because she liked the way his hands felt placed upon her back.

Another Betrayal

She wants it, she wants it, her body aching. we all know she does. Lets laugh and call her slut. let's smile and watch her writhe.

Her body turn. she looks. nice, right? hot, right? Yes she can be sexy. moan just right moan just right.

she wants it. she wants it. hard. spread out like an animal. a dog.

let's laugh and call her slut. lets watch her fuck. watch her fuck watch her fuck.

because she wants it, she's aching. she wants you hard. wants you hard. give it to her hard.

Her body moans. it moans. she comes and cums and comes.

and she means it.





right?

She'll Confess to Nothing

Because you couldn't hear it in her voice? or is it because you didn't want to?

well she'll tell you now. she's angry again. angry. fist clenched, eyes closed, achingly angry. she's ready for breakdown. she's ready for tears.

SHE NEEDED YOU. but you were too blind to see that, weren't you. too deaf to listen. you think that this is the way to go about it. i know you do. but i'm further than ever. go ahead, keep pushing. keep pushing. keep fucking keep fucking. you're losing me and you'll regret it when you realize. you'll regret that iw as the best thing that could have been for you. yea, so i'm stuck up. so i'm conceited. can't you see that i have the potential to be your wonderful? can't you see how much i need you? how much you're fucking LOSING me.

She's sobbing again. over you again. she's just so broken down. she's just so lost. she needs run away. she needs

she needs anything.

she's tried so hard to be normal again. she's tried so hard to be pretty again. and let's all admit it, she's done a great job. round of applause great. round of drinks for all great.

she's sick again but none of you know, she's keeping it in. she's avoiding it. She's hoping it's death again but we all know it won't ever be. it won't ever be. a sick sort of torture, a sick sort of pain.

lightheaded. too much at once. too many miles, too many hours, too much wasted on so little. so little. she's sick again and you don't even care. she needed you again and you don't even care.

well hear this, she'll call you tonight. tell you it's over tonight. tell you it hurts tonight. go ahead, live your life without her. grow without her. hell, travel without her, salt in the wound, it's funny, isn't it. let's laugh it up. she feels ridiculous. she feels ridiculous. over an dover and over again.

she's distant again. she's grasping again. can she do this? can she do this?

And She Won't Say She's Sorry

Here's another letter. different form. different place. different tense.

She's going to start by telling you she's gaurded. she closed you off long ago. Direct access to her heart was never yours. not for a moment. maybe a moment. If there is no affection there can be no pain. Keep that in mind as you go on. keep in mind that you couldn't ever hurt her.

Love could be a million and one things. It won't ever be you. Just like all the rest you tried to prove you were different. Thrown words with empty meaning. big words, high points. half sincerity.

She feel stupid again. not because you've ignored her. Not because she gave herself to blank promises. again. She ashamed because she began to believe you. She was reminded how gullible her heart really is. always has been. ridiculous how some things just don't ever change. She's always done this. always fell for this. And she began to again with you. even though she said she never would. again.

You can't say you love someone if you'll be over it tomorrow. you can't tell someone they're a part of you if you'll forget in a moment. Love isn't dropped so quickly.

She almost pities you. feels sorry you've never felt real long term love; for a moment wanted to show you how much it could really be. She wante dto be the first to take you through the maze of knots and tangles and strings of love. But she can't. Won't. and instead she'll look at you with sympathy.

"poor empty heart" she'll say as hers breaks over another.

"poor lonely boy" she'll say as she hears of drowning tactics.

"I told you so" she'll say. another bittersweet victory for teh team she never wanted to win.

Sighs will mix with laughter and she'll add you to the list of mistakes, the moments she regrets. A little harsh, she knows. But she's going to forget you

somehow...

RandomAccess

I planned to do so many exciting things for today. I filled myself up to avoid the lonelines. I overbooked to turn away from teh emptiness.

But of course it didn't work out. Of course i'm about to climb into bed and neglect everything i know i need to do. of course i'll write about it in my blog and complain endlessly to my poor friends.

Two years today at this exact minute, to be honest I stepped into his house for the first time with different intentions.

we'd wait an hour and a half before meeting on the middle of his couch, some stupid movie playing. What time was it then? 5 o'clock. I think i left at 7. it could've been 8.

a month later on my birthday he'd give me every beauty of sunset in all it's richness in a box. to look at forever. to keep me happy forever. or so was his intention.

two months after that, about three months in, we'd have sex for the first time camped out in my car in the cold of Pacifica.

another couple of months (i could find the date if i tried) was the first we'd said we loved each other.

one year anniversary (a year from today) we'd exchange gifts in the parking lot at school. A music box. an unfinished story. I just remembered what we did that night. those chairs we sat on and held hands. the cold. the skirts. the ring you bought me then, do you remember that? of course you do...

A year and a half... we did something that day, didn't we? i'msure we did but the memory is gone now... Is that when we went to santa cruz? monteray? MOMA? Yerba Buena? or was that on valentines... It's all mixed in my head now, i'm sorry.

Let's speed up to now. today. september 8th. if we could go back in time two years we'd just be settling on couches. your black leather ones. I'd sit on the side, the reclining chair. and you the other end. DO you remember how ridiculous we were? how killing it was to inch closer minute by minute?

I could go on for hours about the millions things we've done. the thousands of things i'll always forget and always remember.

But i'll save that for some other time...

An Apology

And she sighs and she tears and this is nothing new.

Couldn't you just be there for her? no questions asked, no demands made... just there. It's ok, she never expected you to be. never depended on you to be.

And she writes and begins to choke and this isn't anything new.

Do you know what day it is tomorrow? Do you know how much i can't handle that?

And she thinks of what she always thinks about and makes up her mind. tonight. tonight. Old news made fresh agai. scars made fresh again.

The card is blue and it sparkles. There are little star jewels. you and i, i think it's supposed to represent. Coming together for a moment, two comets whose paths were parallel for a moment. only a moment. once in a lifetime, the card says. You in mine, it says.

It says thank you. Thank you for teaching me to love cause you were the only one who came close to doing it right. to doing it right. Thank you for teaching me that i could be beautiful. That i could be worthwhile.

Thank you for teaching me that not every hope was wasted. for showing me wonder. awe in every moment. Thank you for the things we've seen, the places we've found together and within each other. Thank you for always believing in me. thank you for being the only one that knew i could be an artist. Thank you for all the times you cried and all the times you sacrificed. Thank you for the million and a half cookies especially during the christmas season when we practically lived in the mall. thank you for every little thing we've shared and the handful of times you drew me. Thank you for thegolden afternoons and the well lit nights. Thank you for holding me that night at the beach on the rocks. thank you for wiping those tears away here at the end. for saving more things than i saved and keeping a box. for giving me a drawer in your room and making sure everything was folded. for being strong for me. for being weak for me. for the ribbons and the times you brushed the hair out of me face. for the times you rubbed my back even though you were tired and i complained for hours. for going down on me more often than i do for you. for never fucking me like a slut until the end. for santa barbara. for the way you look at me. for the way our bodies always fit. for believing in us even though i can't. for the time i was singing michelle branch and you turned the music off just to hear my voice. for donnie darko even though i've never watched it. for making my bed and cleaning my room and going to family parties. for loving them. for loving me.

thank you for the million things you've done in the process of loving me. thank you. thank you for loving me.

because before you i didn't think anyone could.

This Just In

News to the world: I, Sydney Tan, am very officially on my period.

Do we all know what that means? it means loss of appetite, blood from vagina, and hey, here's the fun part... Raging hormones.

and while that may mean a bit of fun (hornyness) that leads to giving smashing head for the most part it's SO not worth it. Here's some things to keep in mind:

1. when i say anything in a sweet voice it really means "bitch get on your knees and hail me before i throw a hissy."
2. if i sound a little sad it means i'm on the verge of tears and if you don't immediately try to cheer me up the following cries will be ENTIRELY blamed on you.
3. If i sound angry / frustrated and ACTUALLY say the words "i hate you" it means you better duck and cover because fists will most likely be after. That or i'll slaughter you with your own guilt as you watch me bitterly weep and cry.

THis mostly goes for those ever so thick headed retard boys i associate with who SHOULD cater to my needs unquestioningly. Let's put it this way... If you've had your penis in me you most DEFINATELY should follow these rules and be my mother fucking puppy during period time.

and don't give me all that blah blah blah i fired you as my puppy... BITCH THAT DOESN'T COUNT.

::more whining:: i just wanted someone to talk to...

She'll Never Stop Loving, Will She...

On pink paper with neat little letters she spilled out her heart. A last attempt at salvation. Her hand reaching to a lost love with hope. only hope. simply hope.

I almost cried to think of the girl that wrote this, the girl i used to be. More than sad I am disgusted.

A List So As Not To Forget This

There's something soothing about cold ocean air pushing against you. Running by your skin, making you alive again.

There's somethign soothing about ink smudges and hand written letters talking of blood and forever bonds.

There's something soothing about the stretch of muscles beneath skin and the pulling of a healthy sort of pressure.

There's somethign soothing about evening showers coupled

about the beat of ones body.

about the sound of typing.

about the echo of your voice over distant wires.

To Prioritize

She's got a plan tonight
a list of things to do

It starts with you.

She'll let you run your hands through her hair
and she'll smile sweetly,
let her laugh taint the air.

She's gonna run her hands down your legs
down your body
and bite her lip, last moment.
down your body.
down your body.

She's gonna button you up, buckle you down,
She's gonna take you.

This time out of spite.

She's got a plan tonight
a list of things to do
and it starts with you.

With your eyes and your lips
with the curve of your neck,
can you feel it?

With her curves and her hips
and the way her back arches.
can you feel it?

She moans and gasps

and it all starts with you.

And you'll fall for it all
let yourself go
and you'll fall for it all

every pretend
and everything little lie

you think she's your's
and she laughs and mocks

and you're simply the first
on the list

of tonight.

Ink and Sorrow like Billy Collins

I'm considering climbing into bed.
warm and protected.

But I still smell of him.
i'm sure my sheets will too.

and it widens this gap
lengthens this void

and i'm alone.