She thinks it's that time again...
time to shut out the world...
time to rebuild walls and make others nonexistent...
because they don't understand.
time to be a bitch again.
time to stop looking for things that people can't give
to fill a need that can't be filled.
expecting others not to understand
support systems have dissipated,
they couldn't give either...
back to ice, eyebrows arched, smirking lips...
heartless bitch.
no one loves a heartless bitch, but that's ok because no one loved her before...
but the good thing about a heartless bitch is that, not only is she not giving up love (it already wasn't there), people see her coming and move...she doesn't get stepped on and because people don't get close, they don't get close enough to take
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
how do you not think?
he tells me not to think so much. he says i drive myself crazy. so is it my own fault i stress? is that the answer to my problems? to ignore that my problems exist??? double you tee eff! how can you NOT think? how can one not wonder, after a lifetime of being shit on by those you love and who are suppose to love you, why these people continue to shit on you? Is it them? is it me? everyone else in the world needs counseling...no, sweetheart, that's not being realistic...how can everyone else in the world be crazy how can you just happened to be the sane one...youre right, then....it must be me...i'm the crazy one... so now that i've come to the conclusion that i'm the crazy one, what is it about me that makes all these people not want to love me? what makes me weird to people? is there a sign invisible to only me springing from the top of my head that says, "love not this girl, but pretend to for awhile so that it hurts worse when she finds out you don't...harharhar..." seriously, what is it that needs to be fixed? tell me and i'll effen fix it. i'm beginning to think that all people are just selfish.
i wish he loved me. but you can't make someone love you. ok, so then what the eff you see kay is love anyways? is it something that is verbalized or is it just shown? are there different ways to say it besides "i love you." i think so... i say it to him all the time without really saying it...the way i look at him and tell him i care for him and tell him that he's beautiful... yeah, it all means "i love you," but i don't think he gets it...doesn't he get that if i say that exact phrase, he'll walk all over like he's already doing? oh but he doesn't mean to. he's going through a lot...after all, it was him that said it first and i did not respond out of fear, but he should hear me responding everytime i tell him i care an awful lot about him or everytime i act concerned for him or offer to help him in anyway that i can.
he says i mean so much, yet never calls...what does that mean? he says it means nothing and that he's just busy...but you'd think that if he meant when he says he wants to continue to see me, that he'd have enough passion for me to at least call once in a while or want to do things...you know, like walk in the park, or hang out at the mall holding hands, those things people do together when they've been dating for six months...and yet, never an "i love you," never...never an argument....but i guess we don't see each other enough to argue...
i wish he loved me. but you can't make someone love you. ok, so then what the eff you see kay is love anyways? is it something that is verbalized or is it just shown? are there different ways to say it besides "i love you." i think so... i say it to him all the time without really saying it...the way i look at him and tell him i care for him and tell him that he's beautiful... yeah, it all means "i love you," but i don't think he gets it...doesn't he get that if i say that exact phrase, he'll walk all over like he's already doing? oh but he doesn't mean to. he's going through a lot...after all, it was him that said it first and i did not respond out of fear, but he should hear me responding everytime i tell him i care an awful lot about him or everytime i act concerned for him or offer to help him in anyway that i can.
he says i mean so much, yet never calls...what does that mean? he says it means nothing and that he's just busy...but you'd think that if he meant when he says he wants to continue to see me, that he'd have enough passion for me to at least call once in a while or want to do things...you know, like walk in the park, or hang out at the mall holding hands, those things people do together when they've been dating for six months...and yet, never an "i love you," never...never an argument....but i guess we don't see each other enough to argue...
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Minds of Emotional Females
Lust inducing mini blind shadows sway in the breeze of the open window as they fit the contour of uninterrupted skin on a naked body. Early morning, 4am, maybe 4:30. he sleeps...so asleep...in the soundless night, soundless all but his deep breathing and my heart pounding at the breathtakingly beautiful nude before me...an animated photograph, this instance seems to linger on in all of it's intensity...and I may at this time be reliving some emotions of the orgasm from last night...and he’s so peaceful...lying there…
But I am not asleep...no…I am not asleep. I sit, unclothed as well, on the opposite side of the room in maroon computer chair, observing…observing the rising and falling of ribs, the soft brown hair, and although the ‘blue like water’ eyes are concealed by fleshy lids, I can still see them in my mind’s eye. Following lines of shadows down the side of his waist with my eyes, I can relive my lips running down that line lying over the inguinal ligament just inside his hip, that one line that leads down to the pubic bone, my favorite part of the male body, that line…and yet he sleeps…motionless and appearingly thoughtless and dream free, he sleeps…
Hot and vibrant sensations shoot from my heart throughout my body into and along the length of every limb as the scene takes me in and then my body prepares itself for round two of his sweet affection…and then, I realize, once again, he is asleep…he…is…asleep. How can he be asleep? Should not he be so filled with passion and sentiment that he can do nothing but lay awake enjoying me as well? So now, I sit, waiting…waiting for him to stir…to realize what he’s missing, to wake and turn and smile at me with perfect teeth and “sweet” hair messy from being intimately touched for hours…and yet he does not move…
And why shouldn’t he be awake…loving me? As if I didn’t deserve the effort it takes to love? And then I realize that it was he that fell asleep first…for I was still awake to hear the slowing patterns of his breath. And it was he who received pleasures on the down low and did not return the favor. It was he that got his first and had to be reminded to finish the job.
Fury inducing mini blind shadows send ripples of indigo devils dancing in the moonlight along curves of skin…chanting softly…songs of malice and luring mantras of temptation…
“But I don’t want to hurt him,” a whisper almost uncontrollably escapes my lips.
And, yet, they are so beautiful. In a ballet of nocturne, tridents tracing luring designs of hostility in the air, they dance along his waist…inviting me to join and tempting every one of my senses to do...then all at once I can smell of aqua di gio and taste warm chocolate in my mouth and they provoke me with every other stimulant of my favoritism inducing a complete symphonic waltz of resentment…
Friday, April 25, 2008
the closet
the place on fifth avenue where i used to get away,
to put as many physical barriers between us as i could,
after all, she alreaday put all the emotional ones up first,
what was left?
it was my turn.
the place where i'd write my bad girl letters to her,
the ones damning her to hell and cutting her to pieces,
the letters that she was never intended to actually read,
and the letter that was accidentally found in the 8 month old hands of my little niece who'd gotten into my backpack and carried it to forbidden ground...
needless to say, we talked about that one in family counseling that month.
the place where i'd sit, and feel relief for a few minutes alone and with my head on my knees
the place where i'd sit and pray, that is when i used to pray.
the place in a time when i never said "goddamnit!"
the place in a time of falling for my first love in 9th grade, the guy that mom never liked, that may have very well been the reason i was infatuated...aw, defiance...
the place in a time when she didnt' know how to deal with me...oh wait...she still doesnt'
the place in a time at 15 when she had me taking zoloft so she could be a lazy parent
the place in a time that i took zoloft and felt like a zombie, never happy or sad
the place in a time when she had me switched to prozac and then i felt happy all the time to the point that i ignored problems.
the place i'd go to...to sit...to write...most importantly, just to think.
to put as many physical barriers between us as i could,
after all, she alreaday put all the emotional ones up first,
what was left?
it was my turn.
the place where i'd write my bad girl letters to her,
the ones damning her to hell and cutting her to pieces,
the letters that she was never intended to actually read,
and the letter that was accidentally found in the 8 month old hands of my little niece who'd gotten into my backpack and carried it to forbidden ground...
needless to say, we talked about that one in family counseling that month.
the place where i'd sit, and feel relief for a few minutes alone and with my head on my knees
the place where i'd sit and pray, that is when i used to pray.
the place in a time when i never said "goddamnit!"
the place in a time of falling for my first love in 9th grade, the guy that mom never liked, that may have very well been the reason i was infatuated...aw, defiance...
the place in a time when she didnt' know how to deal with me...oh wait...she still doesnt'
the place in a time at 15 when she had me taking zoloft so she could be a lazy parent
the place in a time that i took zoloft and felt like a zombie, never happy or sad
the place in a time when she had me switched to prozac and then i felt happy all the time to the point that i ignored problems.
the place i'd go to...to sit...to write...most importantly, just to think.
so let me say to you a story
about Silly Sally finding herself
sandwiched among six sexy boys...
silly sally didn't start out being so silly,
at first she was super shy.
but then then along sauntered bad boy billy
it all started one sultry summer day
when shy sally sat sweating her balls off
outside on a shaded bale of hay at her sister's farmhouse...
smoking a cigarette and feeling her belly rumble, she stated "salmon sounds simply salivating right now!"
so she stood from her shaded stack and skipped off to the seafood store
called "Sea Shells -n- some Swanky Stuff"
when she got up to the the front counter,
she stood, speechless, staring at the seriously goodlooking male staff member before her.
"hello, welcome to "Sea shells -n- some Swanky Stuff," home of everything swanky, i'm billy, may I help you?
about Silly Sally finding herself
sandwiched among six sexy boys...
silly sally didn't start out being so silly,
at first she was super shy.
but then then along sauntered bad boy billy
it all started one sultry summer day
when shy sally sat sweating her balls off
outside on a shaded bale of hay at her sister's farmhouse...
smoking a cigarette and feeling her belly rumble, she stated "salmon sounds simply salivating right now!"
so she stood from her shaded stack and skipped off to the seafood store
called "Sea Shells -n- some Swanky Stuff"
when she got up to the the front counter,
she stood, speechless, staring at the seriously goodlooking male staff member before her.
"hello, welcome to "Sea shells -n- some Swanky Stuff," home of everything swanky, i'm billy, may I help you?
Thursday, April 17, 2008
thoughts with unknown origin
Sometimes, when i'm driving at 70mph down the interstate i can see a deer jump out of nowhere and plow into the front end of my car giving me no time to swerve. It crushes my bumper and hood as it rolls up and back over the front end of my car shattering the front windshield with its antlers that eventually pin my head to the headrest of my seat right through the middle of my face like tacking paper to corkboard, only paper doesn't bleed or make that squishy brain or cracking bone sound...and then i realize i'm still just driving down the road, but with a death grip on the steering wheel and extremely tense shoulders...
Sometimes, when i'm laying down at night facing my daughter in bed trying to fall asleep with just inches between our noses, I can see her face come alive by the waking red eyes of some demonic and unhuman creature with curled foaming lips, growling vocals, and two rows of tiny, pointed teeth that lunge foward to feed off my features just inches away, and i yank her off and throw her across the bed only to roll off into the floor in terror unable to make it to the door before she leaps onto my back to finish feeding...and then i realize i'm still just laying there watching her beautiful face while she sleeps, but i'm still pretty freaked out have to turn and face the other way...
Sometimes, when i'm walking to my car alone at 2am after spending hours on an art project due at 8am the next morning, I can see a large black guy, a college football student or something, with a thick leather UCA jacket on and wearing dreds come running at me from outta the shadows so he can pull me into one of the many bushes we have around campus in order to rape me from behind so he can rip and bleed me out with his oversized endowment while one of his giant hands wraps round both my wrists at the small of my back and his other covers my screams from the front. he finishes, beats me to death and runs off with my purse...and then i realize i've made it to my car safely, i get in and lock my doors as fast as i can...
I have many other thoughts like this, most of them have to do with stuff happening to me while i'm in the car...and i can't figure out quite where they come from and why I have them, and i often wonder if other people have thoughts like this too or if i'm just a weirdo. i don't mean specifically my thoughts, but i wonder if other constantly worry about shit happenin to them to. Why can't i relax on the interstate? Even when there are no other cars around me, i'm still afraid of some freak accident. and where they hell does demon baby come from? and why is it always a young black stocky football playerish lookin guy i see coming to rape and mug me...why not a tall skinny white crackhead? don't know. these things just pop into my head. and why am i scared all the time? it'd be nice for once not to worry...
Sometimes, when i'm laying down at night facing my daughter in bed trying to fall asleep with just inches between our noses, I can see her face come alive by the waking red eyes of some demonic and unhuman creature with curled foaming lips, growling vocals, and two rows of tiny, pointed teeth that lunge foward to feed off my features just inches away, and i yank her off and throw her across the bed only to roll off into the floor in terror unable to make it to the door before she leaps onto my back to finish feeding...and then i realize i'm still just laying there watching her beautiful face while she sleeps, but i'm still pretty freaked out have to turn and face the other way...
Sometimes, when i'm walking to my car alone at 2am after spending hours on an art project due at 8am the next morning, I can see a large black guy, a college football student or something, with a thick leather UCA jacket on and wearing dreds come running at me from outta the shadows so he can pull me into one of the many bushes we have around campus in order to rape me from behind so he can rip and bleed me out with his oversized endowment while one of his giant hands wraps round both my wrists at the small of my back and his other covers my screams from the front. he finishes, beats me to death and runs off with my purse...and then i realize i've made it to my car safely, i get in and lock my doors as fast as i can...
I have many other thoughts like this, most of them have to do with stuff happening to me while i'm in the car...and i can't figure out quite where they come from and why I have them, and i often wonder if other people have thoughts like this too or if i'm just a weirdo. i don't mean specifically my thoughts, but i wonder if other constantly worry about shit happenin to them to. Why can't i relax on the interstate? Even when there are no other cars around me, i'm still afraid of some freak accident. and where they hell does demon baby come from? and why is it always a young black stocky football playerish lookin guy i see coming to rape and mug me...why not a tall skinny white crackhead? don't know. these things just pop into my head. and why am i scared all the time? it'd be nice for once not to worry...
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