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.

Too Soft for This

She heads for home although she's already there. She comes here.

She arranged her body just so. He pushed in a way he never did. He placed her hands where he wanted them, in a way he never did. It's ok, she understands. She knows what he wants and she knows just how. After so long how could she not know?

But she's there again, just like before broken hearts, thinking the same thoughts and stroking in just the same way.

She thinks about how it would feel to just... To feel him between her teeth. She wonders if he would scream, maybe hit her. She wonders if it'd still be hard. She wonders if she could draw blood, how easy it might be. She's envisioning it when she pulls away, afraid of herself. What she might do.

She smiles. he doesn't know what goes on.

When it's over and done with, cum towel on the floor, they don't say they love one another. They sit awkwardly and he wants to hold her. She squirms away, makes excuse to be across the room. makes excuse for him to leave.

when she's alone she listens to The Eels and lets herself walllow. She calls her self disgusting. repulsive. She thinks of the way he pulled her hair for a moment or two and everything inside of her cringes.

When did she become this?

Trembling She Rises

Another dissappointment. another let down. another lonely night. another lonely monrning. Another sigh she's dedicated to you.

and now she remembers why she couldn't love you in the first place. She's angry now. angry now. Her fists clenched, insides closed. She's fighting back tears.

you promised her forever and she felt her heart need you again. It's too bad that forever couldn't be now. couldn't be here. couldn't ever begin.

She's fighting herself so hard on this one. breathe, she tells herself. breathe and let it go. let it go. let it out.

She needs a body now, a body to fill the void. but doesn't have the heart to find one.

To Fill the Time

I'm bitter. Bitter bitter bitter. I'm a bitter little bitch so just take it.

grrrrrr. ughk. blah. fucking balls.

(when's the last time you saw a blog entry that was so eloquent? gee golly i'm good)

anyways, back to my complaining. I hate everyone, oh indeed, one of those moods. I think i'm pmsing. and by think i mean know and by know i mean i hate everyone.

have you ever wanted to throw a fit quite similar to a child's? and i'm not talking about being childish and throwing a fit. that usually means holding a small sense of dignity, perhaps even righteousness. But no, i mean, hae you ever SERIOUSLY wanted to just throw yourself to the floor, make irritating cry like noises, kick your legs (and whoever may be standing near), and flail about like a dying walrus? and all of that, just for attention? it's pathetic, i know. truly truly pathetic. in the most sincere sense of the word. it's not my fault that i'm the youngest and a complete brat and used to getting my way.

at least we can say i'm adult enough not to give in to such urges. lol. i just complain here which in reality is supposed to be my "private" area of venting. bah humbug. that's all i can say.

ew. hey world, the first entries i had were about Jason Pedroza. blech. and i honest to god said in it "he's not worthy of mentioning his name so i'll just call him blowjob." oh, and for those of you who don't recognize the name since it isn't what i usually refer to him as, he's the rainbow dick. THis blog chronicles my boy adventures to the max. i wonder if i talk about Lerch... i'll go look. ahahhahahahah it does. that's hilarious. it even talks about him as if he was a good guy. gross. the only one it misses i think is jeremy and edmund.

my new blog template was SUPPOSED to be much cooler but the images i need for the borders and crap won't show up. i'm computer stupid but if i can't figure it out i'll make adolfo help me. there were supposed to be teal swirlies and stuff. all pretty like.

it's 10 o clock and i've been awake for FAR too long. i didn't even sleep well last night. that means i SHOULD have slept in. but no, indeed not. what's there to do goddamnit. i'm listening to rap. see what you've made me do. and i know all the words.

hahahahahhahahahahha. i just read an old blog and i truly think it needs to be reappreciated. i can't believe i said this... here, read bitch.

"if i ever had kids i think i might cut off their noses and sew shut their mouths.

i'd keep them in closets and under the bed.

hey wouldn't be allowed to talk

and when they did, i'd shoot them.

in places where they'd still survive.

gr. to thanksgiving and to small children. and my family. and my dog. and everyone else."

told you i was funnier than you are. pfsht.

i'm bored and lonely. but more bored than anything. bored bored bored. blech. someone get online already.

Vanity

She looks in the mirror. poses again. takes off another peice of clothing.

She looks at herself exposed. flaws. perfections. she stares.

She does this so you'll call her beautiful. just one more time. wants to hear it one more time.

She thinks of ugly states and she's been told she's drop dead gorgeous.

She never believes. a part of her does, though. And she considers it.

She wants to pose nude. for you. to glorify her. make her feel beautiful. She wants you to look at her like a peice of art.

But you wouldn't, you don't. You save those looks for museums and famous names. Not her. Not the way she works to be seen. Not the way she memorizes her every curve to accentuate it for you.

She thinks of her best. the way she is glorious. she thinks of her love. the way he's beautiful. Do they think her the same? She's told you about the milk and sugar. of the golden light. She loves them, you know. Loves them both. But they'd never write about her the same. think the same.

She hangs on your every word, every approval. Grace, you call it. Romance, and her heart skips a little. She waits for more.

She takes another picture. Deletes it. unbuttons her pants. another. deletes it. another. deletes it.

She just wanted you to see. to see. to see.

She just wanted you to see that she's beautiful.

Every Nights Like This

She keeps the door closed to keep the warmth in. To keep the cold out.

Easy to fall in love. easy to fall out. Do you remember what i said?


told you so.

This Could be The Last Time

He holds her in his arm and slowly she drifts. Slowly she drifts. Slowly she drifts.

She doesn't know where her heart lays, but there it is, rested in his arms.

She's not sure what happens next, but here, he's kissed her one more time.

Exhausted. exhausted. they've been fighting too long. they've been fucking too long.




She loves him. SHe says nothing about the nightmares as he looks at the clock and considers home. She wants to beg him to say. to hold her a little longer. She wants to pull him down again, to kiss him once or twice for persuasion.

But she's silent and she shivers in his absense. She falls asleep eventually.

Not for Anger. Not for Love.

A glimpse of the bruises along your back. wincing she sees. Cringing she turns away.

meek. slightly embaressed you explain.

She thinks of passionate anger. passionate love. She thinks of children and sticks.

Doesn't he understand? Don't you?

She wants to scream that you're beautiful and even if you like it these things shouldn't happen. They shouldn't happen for anger. they shouldn't happen for love.

We spent so long looking for passion and she wants to tell you if you've found it, this isn't the kind she wants because it looks painful. She wants to smooth it away, to kiss it away. To run milk and sugar along your skin, not because she thinks it would help but because she wants to show you she loves you.

She wants to tell you that you're not just beautiful, you've heard that before. but Sacred. everyone should revere you in the same way. A shining diety come down to live among us. They should be scared to wreck you, to taint you, to break you. Not because you're fragile. not because you're weak.

because you're deserving.

a thousand times higher than these blonde haired boys. They disgust her. She hates them. she hates all of them. She always has.

because she doesn't want them to ruin you.

She thinks of churches. They should get on their knees, weak and aquiescent. They should close their eyes (aren't they always more beautiful eyes closed, lashes thick?). Their lips should mumble whisper their most precious hopes and dream into your skin. your lips. the folds of your body. They should be devoted. committed. faithful. Come every service. They should work for your love and know they're still undeserving. They should count beads of crystal and send a thousand prayers. Light a thousand candles. The pews would be red velvet and they carpet quiet. The lights would be low and they should all be glorious.

because you are. you are glorious.

Dreams Could Never Be Escape

The hotel room with the double beds, view of the street. The bed squeaked a little and the sheets were stiff.

In her pink skirt she sways and the lighting is perfect. He has his glass still on (she likes it better that way) and their moves are fluid. A moment is blurred and his hands are there, brushing against her beneath the butterfly wing silk. She gasps. She gasps.and he whispers "shh. he'll hear." That's when reality (but only dream reality) hits. This is the part she remembers. She knows what happens next in the dream. She knows and knows and she panics. She runs.

It's too late.

The door Slams. In agony tears and rough hands her Other comes into the room. Onto the bed. Her bed now. With red sheets and black poles now. He yells "i can't take it anymore" and throws her Portland on the bed. atop her.

She knows what's going on. She's had this dream before. She knows now.

A kick to the bed. Screen jumps. CD skips. It's happening now. happening now.

the rape.

A gun to their heads. the cold biting. He forces it in. She can feel it. She can feel it. It makes him harder. harder. Her Other watches. Sobbing. He slaps her. He's on her. Her mouth. In her. And there are no tears left inside her. There is nothing but them. inside her. She doesn't cry

as they take her. take her. take her.

Another Moment Lost to Tears

And through tears, eyes swollen and red, the usual. Through sobs, choked, loud, the usual she said, struggling the entire time:

"Can't you see? i'm a thousand broken dreams. Everything i ever wanted, everything i ever hoped for, that i loved. Everything that made me happy or consoled me or kept me living. Everything i've ever ever worked for and looked for in life. Everything. it's died inside me. it's dying. i'm dying. i've had to kill it all inside me. I have nothing now. I don't have anything left inside me."



and still... he had nothing to say.