I'd joke and call you my octopus because you'd engulf me in a flurry of limbs whenever I came near, pulling me seductively toward your mouth. I was happy to be your prey, to get lost in the tangle of your tentacles - another love blinded fool - I had no idea that you'd feast on my soft innards, then spit out the bones when you were through.
We'll chance upon each other, some day or evening a long time from now. By then my heart will have scabbed over, but still the edges are tender. You'll be excited - "it's been so long!" - but I'll be full of dread, caution. I'll regard you coolly, just enough detachment to make you unsure, ill at ease. I'll make some cutting remark, veiled in subtlety, then excuse myself from your company. You'll mull the comment over, repeating it in your mind, puzzling together its meaning. And slowly, you'll reach the soul of it and know that I'm still bleeding. You'll watch me from across the room, and I'll know by its focused heat, But I'm too old and too tired to play the games of young girls. You won't see me feigning laughter or pretending to flirt with some random person. I'll simply be me, as even keeled and placid as you knew I was. It will remind you of those quiet moments we shared, tangled in each other, Doing nothing but marveling at the miracle of love, the wonder of eachother's breathing. You'll then be in touch, and I'll hesitate but answer; no sense of preservation. You'll apologize for it all and I'll give you a halfhearted, watery kinda smile. (Actions, of course, speak louder than words and I'm simply mirroring your past indifference.) You'll realize too late, like they all do, that you made a huge mistake. But it'll make no difference to me because you had broken something inside me That day, way back, when I stared out of the window, watching a squirrel as You stood above me and recited a litany of why you didn't want me. And maybe then you'll long for me the way I did those many months, The wind blowing through the hollow in your chest, whistling past the ragged edges. And then you'll understand, it dissolved that warm October as I sat in silence. You'll know it's too late for me, for you, for us. It's just now that you're catching up.
Upon review, I determined this was shit. I deleted it so I wouldn't be a fucking hypocrite. 😉
Had I known it was going to be the last time that we would kiss, I would've given it everything I had and.... Bit your fucking lip off.
Nothing warms the broken heart quite like the fires of hatred.
"I love you," you called to my retreating back. I wondered if it was exquisite cruelty, or reassurance. Maybe it was a measure of relief for you, Since now, you never have to see me again. Either way, it was a javelin to my (already fragile) heart.
I like to write in the hazy, golden glow of my Edison bulbs. It makes me feel like a real artist. In reality, I'm just some middle aged white bitch with a threadbare blanket for a heart.
The best thing about
a hot shower is the sound.
No on can hear you
jerk off, or
cry and jerk off
(if that’s your thing).
It’s just a wall of white noise.
I like to shower in
lie down in the basin
with a washcloth
I feel the water droplets –
some fine as mist,
others like fat tears –
on my lips,
And somewhere in that
wall of sound,
He is knocking at the aperture of my heart; I wonder if, like a cat, he really wants inside, Or to simply linger in the door way.
We lie on the rocky seashore, the night sky spread wide like an eager lover. We were talking but I was distracted, our fingers were nearly touching and I was electrified. Then you slid out of your clothes; I was determined not to look at the narrow beauty of you. But I was compelled to join you in the water; a cool kiss on my skin in the thick humidity. You slipped beneath the still, dark surface seizing my wrist gently to take me further out to sea. (and, God, I was willing) Then you reappeared, you hair plastered to your face, and for a wild moment I wondered if that's what Jesus looked like. And as I tried to figure this out, I became aware that you were slowly coming closer, and closer. We watched each other like two battle weary cats, projecting our intentions so there could be no mistake. Then you were hovering above me, and I swallowed with difficulty, licking my lips to prepare for the inevitable. It began gently, as if testing the waters but, fire began roiling through my veins and I just... let go. It was as if the sky caught fire and I could still see the fierce blaze through my tightly shut eye lids.