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The cough has invaded my lungs and made me powerless to it's gunk. I'm writing all of this in one day as attempt to purge every freakin' word from my gut. You can scan over them and know what you missed while you were off adventuring with all of your spirit. Too many things to do are ringing in my ears and prompting my hiney to shower and dress... but sitting in the shadows listening to the wind blow is enough. Drama isn't welcome but it finds me easy enough. How can you be a writer without a little flair?
Gram sat on the couch when I went to visit her. Mom made her a blanket of many colors and it was spread around her legs. She reminded me of old movies where the girl is sitting on a picnic blanket and her skirt is arranged just so. I would have the skirt up my ass and sticking to my thighs. Regardless she held my hand and we watched some show... I think it was Final Destination, which to me is ironic. Her hands still had the kidney spots that we bought cover-up for when I was 16. She sighed.
Everyone is fighting over her. I just sit back on my haunches and wait for the dust to settle. I use to do the same thing in elementary school when a new kid arrived. I would wait till the newness wore off and then be-friend them. Gram tried on about 50 rings before I cut her nails down. She had one that's gem spun around to reveal another stone on the other side. All rings were worth about $10 a piece. Investments in Avon rarely pay off. I didn't want anything of her's besides time... I'm a selfish little twit.
Charming, charmed, charmer. Dear God let me rest before you start spinning lies all around me. You barely know me and you want to slide inside me and make me full. What a lucky girl I am... you admiring my eyes and sliding your heart in my pocket... for now. Loss always makes you re-evaluate life and love. I have no desire to pursue anyway... and your furrowed brow and your worried look does not effect me at all. My modest existance is mine... Go charm the next girl... she'll be more receptive until I find my soul again.
She saw Mary in the corner. She wrung her hands and patted her lap. Come crawl up on me and take rest. Grams closed her eyes and I put chap-stick on her lips. I was the good little girl that didn't leave, didn't give up. I asked her to fight but told her to rest. Aunt Barb swarmed the kitchen while Aunt Annie counted the cash. Mom hid in the bathroom and cried through a roll of toliet paper. I'm just knotted inside waiting for you to come up and love me again. No one saves me like you do.
I wore a black embrodered sweater. And I don't feel like spell checking today, so don't bug me. Annie wore a black skirt and cried when she saw Grams. We watched Aqua teen and pretended that sex and cartoons were the only things on our minds. Snow fell down... Gram's water was no longer taking up space. Cleopatra could of stepped across oceans and I would of taken Grams in my hand and lifted her up. Shelby didn't hear our laughter or our tears. I remembered pantyhose and my water proof mascara. Two cups of coffee and we were there.
I'm supposed to be ok now. I've had my time to grieve and I'm supposed to "buk" up and pretend life is good. She didn't suffer, our family is fucked up and my Mom is an emotional roller-coaster. Cassie paced the floor and hid Gabriel in his stroller. Mom put lipstick on her instead of gloss and tucked a strand behind her still ear. She looked dry and I watched the snow pile outside the window. My legs ached from their nylon confines. Annie slipped a cig in my mouth and lit me up. I crave more nicotine even now.
I just want to soak up time and rest for a bit. I need the mouse or the aertisan. Just a pair of hands to hold my hair back while I let it all out. I am doing well when I close my eyes tight... I only see her when the clouds cover the moon and my nightlight isn't bright enough. I'd buy ear plugs and put up with flushing toliets... just come here, crawl in bed and wrap me up in your full embrace. The cards, the flowers, worthless junk that is supposed to show concern. Just come...
What can you say about someone who meant everything and then nothing in a month? Not much... and to that end this will probably be the extend of my speaking of him in any sense. I lived, I learned, I'm sure I will make the same mistake again until I finally meet someone who actually who has enough depth and passion to take me on. I burnt all the books that said ever after in them... covered them up with a broom and lowered myself to a new level. Even I am beating his record of rebounds, kisses and numbness.
I need to color my hair. I have this very bizarre notion of coloring it deep dark brown. Wouldn't that just be the shit? I would look like a semi-goth in preppy clothes. I'm so pale... with a wee bit of pink flushing up my cheeks and nose. I'll be an evil elf for Santa. "What would you like under your tree little boy?" Do men really think them being naked with a red bow is a suitable gift? Hairy clumps sticking out between the sash of fabric. It's enough to make me shudder myself back to bed. Cheap Skate.
I'm saving my best pj's for over-night company. Nothing sexy, per say... just my pj pants and a my long sleeve pj shirt. I just hate having to wear sweat pants or boxers when a friend wants to crash on the couch. Work is becoming a dreadful mess. Piles and piles of stuff to do and I have little to no motivation. Depression... is that you? I slit my eyes opened and moaned at the window by my bed. Winter is here my friends and my car is it's bitch. I hate plows who do not lower their blades.
I think I'm losing my cuteness. I abandoned it when I fell for a dumb-ass. I hate promises. After 1978, men stopped honoring promises and adopted the "fuck it" policy. I should of been born in the late 1800's... a man who could smoke cigars and talk to Monet. I would miss my feminine wiles though... I love the sexy curve of my hip and the jet of my breasts. Men are cursed with a boring body that rarely inspires anyone except old housewives with gassy husbands. Give me a man who glows at my sight or something close to.
A month and I lost it all. I wanted to slit open his beady little heart and flush it down the drain. I could hear my Mom whisper about Mars and I wanted to throw up. I'm nothing if not a loser at love. I'm in a wedding again... damned to wear another ugly dress that makes my hips look even bigger than they are. I wish I could just slip on a shealth dress and tuck my hair behind my ears and smile. Give me five minutes and I'd leave this behind for better oppurtunites. Always the bride's maid.
It's always amazing how a drunken night can inspire men to call and tell me a bunch of crap. A male friend called me at 3:20am lastnight and told me that he was in love with me and then followed it up with "Can I come over?" Do men really think I'm that stupid? I told him that his best bet was to grease his hand and stay indoors. Men try to get women into bed by saying that they love them and women try to get men to love them by saying that they will get in bed.
Christmas... one day I'm magically in love with the lights, bows and presents... carols, family and inspring spirit and the next day I want to stab myself in the eye rather than look at another tinsel covered tree. I miss the excitement of being a child and awaiting Christmas morning. I was pretty confident as a child, that at 26 I'd be sharing Christmas with a family of my own. So far I have 4 plants that I share my apartment with and for Christmas I purchased them miracle grow and a new water filter. Atleast I have a life.
Gay men and ice storms are a perfect combination. While trying to de-ice my car this morning my up-stairs neighbor, (a fairly flamboyant gay man) and his two dogs; Gizmo and Princess, made their way down the snow covered steps to help me. After 5 gallons of boiling hot water Gary and I were able to uncover the windshield as well as my rear window. Princess insisted on me holding her while I chipped and pecked my way through 3.5 inches of ice. My angel today was a fairly large gay man in a fleece bathrobe with a down jacket.
It's just a day, but oh what a day. All is good in the world and I could roll around in it. Excitement is just trickling out of my fingertips... I could be high except I haven't really digested or inhaled anything all day. It's strange how distance makes the heart grow fonder... and fond it is... I'm just wrapped up in fondness... In the idea that I could soon touch him, smell him... taste him. Life isn't better than this anxiety... move inside of me and live forever and forever. Bottled up I could be happy for a year.
A joint effort for a smile. Lifted up corners and I'm soaring high. I could trace the clouds with my touch... How deliciously corny. I'm in love with the word "yummy". Leave it as an away message and men will im you and wonder what yummy things you are up to or who inspired such a delightful comment to be procured from your lips. Men tangled and twisted in vines and phone lines. All waiting for me to drop my pants and beg for a release. Simpletons... All I want is one... just one. Amaze me instinctively now and then.
Legs were meant for more than being tucked under a desk. My fingers typed keyboards and calculators galore and my tips ache. Office life is such a cycle. Paper swirls and coffee stains. Lights above my cube blister and my plants ache for a sunbeam to light paleness. Mom slipped a note in to instruct my appearance. Gifts already grace her tree from prior trips, so my trunk will be bear. Ice drips from branches and black squirrels stop at my back porch and feast on bread crumbs. My shoes click when I shiver but it doesn't stop my feet.
The man upstairs wakes up at 6:30am. 15 minutes earlier than my alarm is set to wake up. Every morning I hear the floor boards creak and the thin ceiling convey his radio station of choice. His shower swiftly turns on and I hear him sing loudly... generally an Elvis tune. Sometimes in the middle of the night I swear I hear him snoring. Such an intimate life we lead... Yet I've never seen his face or spoken his name. He can hear my pc ring with each im, hear me moan when I have my fun, yet I'm alone.
If I coughed up a lung would I even know? Just a piece or part of some corner... just a smidge that would suddenly appear while my illness invades and tackles me into submission. I have laid in bed for hours... turning pages and waiting for my immune system to kick some flu ass. My current apparel, a pair of navy blue sweat pants have never been so comfy. Tissues strewn everywhere... and yet here I am longing for a fresh box. If you magically appeared you would cure my every ache with just a look. You are my savior.
I tidied up. I swept under the bed and pressed the sheets, but still the scent of you lingers on my pillow. It's been 13 months since I saw your face, I have no desire to touch or kiss any piece of you, and yet, your memory still burns my skin. I use to believe that you meant every sentence, that your breath was special and our time together: a gift I never would appreciate fully. My religion burdened you, your mess buried me, but I saw past it all and thought you did too. so many minutes since this all blew up. I thought I was better, healed and saved Am I?
What would of happened if I met you three years ago? Would you have dropped your bookbag on my front step- embrace me? Would my chastity be less involved? Your mouth though never tasted, is a craving.... a sugar rush I long to swim and carve my way through... I've loved you, moment by moment, day by day, praying for a small rift in your judgement- pardoning me from being a friend, and enveloping me in passion and intensity. When will my poems to you end? will you ever see my brown eyes shine? life needs your soft mouth, my touch needs to hover in your hair. I need you, my soulmate and first love.
Shave just enough to be pretty. borrow a 5 to buy a pack or two. If I rolled my stomach away, stapled and squeezed I could say pounds without a scrunch. My life revolves around wants and needs, all given to me by "love". My heart is pieces parts... sold for a twist of night. I saw a dream float by in a friend, in a green haze I squeezed it out. Candles by a burning bed, flames never tickle my subtle nose. If you found me, I would stop. Just reach up and pull me down, I'd bite and nibble the way you'd like... never to be seen or heard from again, unless instructed by you.
A choice has appeared, to accept and be together, or to search out better, to risk being alone and isolated- to pursue a greater love, not based on attraction, similar ideals and greed, but to open my heart's door that has been closed- to walk out into the sunlight, write words that hold meaning- and shake the dust from my poetry's lines. Do men exist who read and feel passion? A cosmic question that circles my ring finger. I want more than an illustration, I long for lush words atop a breeze. My ears long for a song that has more depth- than beats. To find a love that is true, should mean more than convience.
You have no idea how hard it is for me to be alone. I always tell people that I am independent, but at night when the dark crowds around my bed, I hold the teddy bear you gave me and pretend I am with you. I am so afraid that while you are away, I am going to slip on someone, and just fall down again. It's as if with one whitty comment, I can get swept up in a fairy tale... even if the story has no value to me (and it wouldn't) I could get wrapped up by it because you won't care enough to pause your vacation, and call
A tulip tree sits next to my window, and on it's boughs rests old dried blooms- from last year. The new blooms have started to grow around them, but I have to wonder if they will succeed in pushing their way. I casually think about your fight, the way you let your hair get shorter and your mouth more red. I use to dot your I's... and hope you would round your R's. Maybe my roots will always be deeper than you let yours be. You always said I dabbled in drowning myself. Isn't that what life is.... a subtle way of diving?
Tonight I am trapped where you should be and aren't. It's all fluff, lines that I feed myself- to justify a need that is embeded into my soul. You aren't special enough to make this pain, just an excuse not to allow myself to be happy. A craving, an itch... an invisible hole- that even you couldn't fill. I am tired of being bound- lost and aching, for someone, something, unfounded and unreachable. I wish I was strong enough to take these words, break this spell and run into a smile. But tonight my feet ache, my eyes are closed and my soul is bleeding. Enough is enough, and my words are done until I finally find courage to be more than a girl.
Took my clay and I made a vase, that I live in today. True fate... living forever. I saw my fingers curl up, with nothing more than a nail in them. I have less than everything, you insured my throat, taught my touch... why can't I see my beauty? Why do pianos play. I saw my face in the mirror... you would love me if you saw my eyes. I would transfix you. Love you eat you. and die.... I would walk away in the end, and you couldn't stop me. Do you secretly know that? My spirit all bottled up as shards? Do you feel the splinters under my toes? turn your head lovely.... The time has come, to turn your cheek.
I didn't know, that all of the truths I told you, would haunt me here, put an inch between us, and bind me to a nature, that hasn't been mine- since 1982, but all I can say is, that my hands are dirty... I do keep dishes in the sink. My hair is still shiney, but cheeks are sallow. and so you know nothing just what I fed you, pack after pack, I whispered a side of me, that was buried with Paul, and David... You have no clue, and I won't give you one. You can bite my tongue, but you won't waste my time. You won't win my tears. I've had an earful from the cowards, but your face still flashes.
I was at dinner tonight, and a man looked at me in such a way, that I thought your spirit must have been there- whispering in his ear to look at me and see. I always hid under the covers- when a ghost was mentioned... But if I caught a glimpse of yours, I would ask you to sit and stay. You knew all my secrets, even before I did. You said "Live." and I had no clue how much I needed. I miss your laugh, your understanding... the way you gave me sympathy- when I was just being dramatic. You held me when I was sick, touched my hair when I was dead.
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