11:31 p.m.

ever constant, ever lamenting
she is gone and has inadvertently given me leave to really love. she is painting other people kissing her; she is living the life I've emotionally avoided.
did she lie to me? were here words true? was her face her own? the actions she took, was that her decision or my influence? did she really believe all that bullshit?
we had
eighteen months of being together.
six months now of nothing. six months. I am in love, but I'm not in relationship. I think she has both now.
I stayed out of that word in respect for her. in deference to her.
don't you see? I never wanted to hurt her. not like that. she was supposed to be the one who was broken hearted. I was supposed to just move on like nothing happened.
that's what she told me. that's what she said.
look who's moved on. look who's moved away. look who's someone else again.
meanwhile I, I, I,
I remain.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

11:05 p.m.

this is where I stand
I know how to love. cut towards me, not you. break the skin enough to bleed, enough to leave a mark. I know how to love.
when it scabs, you touch it. I am embarrassed. I pretend not to notice. I draw on my arms to hide my shame. stars where I can't be, scars that never appear.
I said her name out loud. the wind grabbed it from my lips. my bicycle purred beneath me and I said the name again. it was cardboard. it was painful. it left residue in the cut it gave me. I wonder if she's gone.
I know how to love, how to be hopeful, how to be abusive, how to be abused. I know how to leave, how to be left, how to sing, how to cry. I know what slaps are and what tears are and what hands are. I can breathe, and choke, and swallow, and love. I know how to love.
I dreamt that an old friend called me, long lost. I thought it was real. I woke up less full than before. I woke up and lived the loss again.
I still don't know why he went away. I still don't understand.
I am scared to let go, to let in. I am sore and wounded. I don't know how to heal, I only know how to hurt. and how to love.
I know how to love. I don't know how not to. I don't know how to stop.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

12:37 a.m.

this is ephemeral too.
he says, "someday I'll want to live with you. I'm getting to know you know as a prospective partner." and it doesn't scare me because I feel the same way.
things will change, things have to change, but somehow it seems like we could change together.
"it that your boyfriend?" my sister bluntly asks. I get offended. he's not my boyfriend. we're not dating. what are we doing? we are living.
words are words are words are power. what she says is not what I believe and what I say is not what she could understand. everything so black and white, so this or that. we don't see the same things. her life is children and fish tanks. mine is outside and art.
art and love, art is love, any way I can get it. it is learning and painting and knitting and writing. it is sewing and biking and drawing and laughing. his smile is art. his eyes are art. his fingers and how he holds his hand on my neck: that is art.
I can't remember the last time I was so hopeful. she didn't bring it out in me. no situation has before. he does. this does.
not the reason, just a symptom, an addition, to changes. see? I can be happy too.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

07:04 p.m.

this is a process
you break
everything
you touch.
the pieces, you gather, cut your fingers on their sharp edges, smear your blood on their pictures.
you make them your's in your clumsiness. your carelessness. even if they weren't your's to begin with.
you
feel sorry
or guilty. but
sorrow and guilt don't rebuild things.
not hearts, or beloved bowls, or mugs, or
paintings on glass with backward letters,
made just for you.
it survived two moves.
but we didn't.
you
destroy
everything that you can,
without even meaning.
and that is the tragedy in you. "it happens" is your mantra because you fuck up so many times. you treat your possessions like shit so when other people come around, you treat their things like shit too, otherwise you don't touch them at all. it is impossible for you to touch anything without tainting it.
everything you've ever had was cheap. cheap to yourself, even if the price was hefty. everything with you is limited. everything with you will decay, or die, be broken, or break. will be disfigured or dismantled, torn or tossed. lost. missing pieces.
I am still so angry at you.
you don't even know how much you took from me. how much you still take. parts of me will never grow back. some of me is still broken.
and you say, you say, "I'm already forgetting you." you say, you say ... you're moving. that is me, lost. this is me, broken.
and I don't need you. and I never needed you. I will never need you. you are so distant that stars look bigger. you are so distant I don't even know who you are.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

12:09 a.m.

just a thought
there are times when I ache to tell him how I feel. deeper than what we've discussed, impossible to properly describe, the feelings tug at me. they bind me and wrap me up in their irrationality. I see a future with him. it is something I never comprehended before; the idea of actually staying.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

02:42 a.m.

four topics, one entry
some days it feels like you never went away, like you never extracted yourself from my life and left a girl-shaped hole where you used to fit. some days it feels like I'm just waiting for you to call me, waiting to go over to your house, waiting to hear your voice. see your smile. kiss you. some days I can forget how many months it's been. some days I can remember how it felt to belong, to be exactly where I was supposed to be. to feel fine with being affectionate in public. to be proud.
but was it ever you or just what you represented? was it really you or just your gender? I don't miss you, I just miss being someone that I'd wanted to be. I stopped being invisible for a while. I came out visually and not just verbally. I was seen.
you were a means to an end. now you're gone and I am frayed again. it's so sad. for me. not you. I don't really care how you are anymore. I don't really care who you are anymore.
you gave me no choice. I resent you for that. it was with me or without. I tried it your way.
didn't work.
how do I reconcile the peace I felt being with a female with the joy I feel being with a male? how can I not be invisible without screaming all the time, "I AM NOT STRAIGHT" just because I am with a man? I hate having to qualify whom I love just because of gender. I hate being viewed as something that I am not, something I view so negatively. I would rather be mistaken for a lesbian than be seen as straight.
no one feels right. I am so tired of breaking up. I am so tired of all of this. I hate the long months spent healing. I hate that we don't talk, ever. I wouldn't approve of you now. I know that. so why did you even bother changing in the first place? why did you do it at all?
life is never as easy as it seems on tv. nothing is as clear cut or obvious. you were raised by that, though, and it shows.
all I want to do is hurt you. I am so mean. I know I am. it's hard to get over when I hurt, hurt, hurt and don't know what to do with that. I don't know what to do.
it lessens, it lets go little by little, but it's not fast enough.
after you, how can I go back to normal? how can I hold hands with a man in public? how can I admit to anyone that I love someone with a penis?
it shouldn't be about that. and it wasn't. until I loved you.
things just don't fit the way they used to.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

04:22 p.m.

things that don't really happen.
someday, baby, I'm gonna
pluck you from the stars and
put you right beside me, where
you belong.

yeah, someday I'm gonna
find the constellation where
the sky can't keep its hands away from
your beauty.

all those dreams, baby, they
won't mean nothing when
you're here with me and
I'm content
wrapped in you
wrapped in us

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

01:54 p.m.

more is less
I dreamed that she came to take her music back from me. I felt helpless, crying, "no, no, I've already taken off all that I don't want." she strode in anyway and sat at my computer, going through the programs, removing all that was her.
if only it were that easy.
in my bookshelf cabinet there's a painting she did of us kissing. I never liked it. I don't want it. it's contrived and mediocre at best. even so, I didn't mind it too much until I saw that she'd done a painting of her kissing a girl in MN. I felt cheap. I felt trite.
get rid of it, but I can't throw it away.
take everything, take it all, just leave my head. get out of my dreams. stop making my chest ache.
I almost got a tattoo of a shark with a harpoon through its head, but I thought that would be too passive aggressive.
it never goes away.

Friday, January 11, 2008

09:58 p.m.

nails on his back, hands on my throat. he left me shaking, shaking, shaking and breathing so heavy thoughts wouldn't congeal. the slap was different, it was necessary, it was the pinnacle, the orgasmic ending, the peak of perfection that said 'you must stop now, it can't get any better.'
we calmed down, I sucked his lip. we calmed down, I kissed him. we calmed down, I made plans for later later later.
zero? zero. please stay zero. mean nothing to me but an open hand across my face and fingers on my windpipe. be nothing but my hand on your scrotum and your fist around your shaft. be words, be moaning, but be nothing more than that.
be a concept, not a person. be an action, not a feeling. enter my body but not my heart.
I said I'm not good at being a girl.
sometimes I am better at it than I realize.
werewolf zombie. you mean nothing to me.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

10:40 p.m.

it's where it was, what it could be.
I dreamt about her last night.
the images jumble in my memory. her hands, her eyes, her lips. waking up together. being back together, but not monogamous. being hurt. loving her.
I dreamt about her last night, and the images stayed with me all day. they were strongest as I was having sex this morning. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wanted to stop him, to say, "no no, I can't, I miss her I miss her I miss her," but instead I just fucked the tears away. I fucked so they didn't come at all.
the part she fulfilled won't grow back. I am riddled with holes from the pieces people take from me when they leave. can't combine them, can't consolidate, can't reconfigure or defragment - they are separate incidences and separate they remain. it hurts, yeah, it always hurts. but they are incomparable. sometimes it feels the same but it never is. not really.
I covered my scars with stars. drew pictures to hide the pain. threw paint on a canvas then walked away, leaving the image unfinished. can't complete the face. can't get it right.
I never knew I was beautiful until I met her. she was the one that made it real. I never knew how good sex could feel until I felt her lips on me. I never knew what sacrifice was until I realized 18 months had passed without me even kissing anyone else. there are things I did that I didn't realize I could do. the changes carry on, some good, some bad. I miss her. I don't regret the break up, but I miss her.
I want her to leave so I can keep grieving. I want her to box up her feelings more and more and forget about me on the outside (but never altogether, oh no, no one will ever be to her what I was) and move in with her new girlfriend (whenever that happens - soon, I imagine) and go back to the useless person she was before she met me.
yeah, I know. like I was that big of a deal.
but if there's one thing that she taught me, then it's this - I was a big deal.
I still am.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

09:41 p.m.

such a hypocrite
you wanted to know me and things were so beautiful. now your words burn me and I can't put out the flames. they just get higher and my heart is melting. it is pooling into a place where I didn't want anything to touch me again. it is sinking into my gut. even my tears don't quench it. nothing stops it.
I know what I did, but I don't know why. I don't know what's wrong with me. things were feeling so good, but now I'm all over the place again. mood swings and irrationality and panic all the time. I can't go among a group of people without feeling the fear. and I don't talk to anyone about it. I come home and cry and contemplate suicide and don't tell anyone.
I yell and I say mean things and I break your trust and I hurt all the time. it hurts all the time. and I can't stop missing her, and I hate it so much. she freezes. you burn. I'd think the two would cancel each other out, but instead it just gets twisted up and hurts even more. I am so scarred I can't even remember where the original wound was.
I hate men. I fear women. I despise myself. I can only like me when I'm around other people, when I'm not alone. bleeding. what if I started cutting again? would that help? what if I started taking more pills? would that solve it? can I be numb in a way I understand? can I force the feeling? can I dissolve it all?
I finally understand what she was doing when I left her. I finally get it, because I'm doing it now. I don't know how to stop. will you help me? can you?

Sunday, December 30, 2007

12:26 p.m.

it's d(es)ire
slow motion self destruction. I thought I'd quit this.
waking up at noon with a dead feeling inside. feeling much more lonely than I actually am. wondering where the other warm body is. remembering there wasn't one, hasn't been one, won't be one for a long time.
thought I found my sure thing, then systematically broke it down into its base components. friend. fucker. nothing.
lost out again. did it to myself. again.
it's not that I can't win, it's that I won't win. things start looking up, I start getting nervous, I start drinking, I start fucking up. I lash out, I push away, my defense mechanisms become me and turn offensive - before anyone can even start to hurt me I've already smashed their face. they're already bloody on the floor. no chance. none.
my invisible shield, the "do not cross" zone, extends out three city blocks from my body. everyone that enters gets maimed. heaven forbid you should fall in love with me. heaven forbid I should love you back.
look, I have a new year's resolution. it sounds familiar. "don't fall in love with anyone new this year." don't date. oh god I am so tired of crushes and expectations. I am so tired of wanting. I am so so tired of desire, especially unmet. yesterday I was rejected three times and I don't think I can do that anymore. all sure things, all surely gone.
I never even had a chance to defend myself. let my shield down, get bloodied up, and when it comes back up suddenly it's got razor blades instead of brick. my emptiness increases as my defenses get higher. there is no one left.
yesterday I almost killed myself but I was too drunk to follow through.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

03:59 p.m.

it's ten things instead of one
I traded my heart for a hand grenade. the pin was loose, it jiggled. I keep it close to me, as close as I can, so it won't go off without me noticing. if it blows up it's gonna take me with it. if I lose it this time, it's for good.
and you, you, you you're trying something different now. you're combining me with you and I am unsatisfied. I wish you would disappear. I wish you would just die.
death is change, baby, I am changing so fast. I miss you so much. I miss us. I don't.
a friend said, "you seem so much happier since you two broke up," and I said, "she was dragging me down. she was a fucking anchor around my ankles and I couldn't do anything. I've done so much since I left her. I am changing my life." I don't want to be bitter. I don't want to miss you. I want to feel the way I say I feel instead of what is really there.
a hand grenade where my heart was, waiting for the last person to pull the pin. waiting to take me with it.
I still find pieces of you scattered in my life. I discard them. I want to scrape my insides clean of you. I want to wash out my system. I want to be single for so long that I can't even remember who you were. I've already forgotten why I wanted you in the first place.
I don't know why I tried at all, or why I tried for so long. you are something else entirely. me? I'm becoming who I wanted to be and that is better than who I was with you.
you were a chain. you were an anchor. you were a harpoon in my side, keeping me in place. I could only move if you did. I could only go where you went.
hand grenade in my chest, and I am duct-taping the pin. no one will pull it from me. no one's going down with me. I have rediscovered caution, and I've named it after you.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

11:06 p.m.

not so good, not so bad, definitely not just right
tonight I
kissed a werewolf.
he nibbled, but
didn't break the skin.
I did more biting than he did.

later I
talked to an otter
lived up to my name
accidentally broke his heart
to be fair, I also broke mine.

disarmed by my own paranoia.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

09:17 p.m.

brick wall, straw ceiling
I wanted to find the perfect song to describe our situation; how I feel about you; how I imagine you view me. but it doesn't exist. the lyrics are wrong or I can't find it online because when it comes down to it, why find the song if you don't know that I've found it?
I want you to know how much I love you and how disappointed I am in what I think you're doing. I want you to know that I don't think you're real anymore. I want you to know that sometimes I hate you. mostly I want you to know that I miss you and I still think about you and I really wish we could be in contact. I really wish you were who you want to be and not what people expect of you. I wish you could be as comfortable with yourself as you pretended to be when we first met and fell in love.
let me describe it to you, let me close my eyes, let me reminisce. I used to trace your tattoos with my fingertips and discover the meaning behind each one. you were so cocky, so sure, so full of shit. you had a tattoo that said "I (heart) ME" and I believed you. but as time went on I came to realize more and more that you do not love yourself, that I shook you to your foundation and you tried to rebuild yourself in a new image. you became someone else. the same story I've always lived - meet, discover, change, discard. everyone tries to twist themselves into the image they think I desire when I all I really wanted was them. all I wanted was to deal with my own insecurities, not make someone else change into what they think I want.
so now you've crumbled again and have built yourself into an abandoned lot, waiting to figure out what that means to you. putting together your structure, having your friends hodge-podge you together because you can't figure any of it out on your own. you were happy with who you were with me. not our relationship, but you were being honest with yourself - to an extent. what are you now? government funded? independent design? I know you're not green, though you are certainly recycled from what you used to be before you met me.
yeah, how's that working out for you?
I have been gutted by your flames, but I remain the same person. improvements are being made. I didn't realize how unhappy I was with you until I saw how happy I was without you.
so why do I still miss you so much?
oh, it is habit. it is purging. you aren't even the person I loved. and that is why I hate you, because that person is gone now. you don't remember my eyes or how I licked your pussy. you don't remember my moans or how I would braid your hair. you don't remember my finger tips circling your clit or the color of the birthmark on my back. you don't remember my smile or how I used to kiss your neck when we hugged. you don't remember me. you are lost in the fog and glad for it. you will never be anything. you will never be anyone. you are not special. you are not talented. you are shit. you are shit. you are shit.
I am so angry at you.
I am so hurt.
I miss you so much.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

12:46 a.m.

how it is
I hurt others when I hurt, hurt others out of jealousy. I broke a bottle for eight years ago, threw a brick for hated love. there is
misunderstanding
and then there is just the normal kind-
understanding that I'd rather miss.
I don't want to know why things turned out the way that they did. but I do. I do.
just like I know why people leave me, or why they did. not leave as in "break up" but leave as in "remove themselves from my life completely." I devour people. I make them become a part of me and then when I am done with them there is nothing left but a husk. they can't recover with me standing there. they can't be near me without being me.
that's a lie.
I have been lied to straight-faced and lied to through actions and lied to through suggestion and lied to through ignorance. I've been slapped in incriminating circumstances and hit for being annoying and found bruises from being shoved away too roughly. I have punched and kicked and bit. I have wrestled and cried and clawed. I've screamed. I've whispered. I've said nothing at all, just left for hours, and returned without a word. once I even threw a milk crate.
but I missed.
I've been hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt and I tell you that it has all been my fault. I am the heart-breaker - my own. I have made bad choices and not followed my intuition. I have reacted poorly. I have been a fool, too. I am not a victim. I am a participant.
I take an active role in my misery. everything else is just a shitty excuse.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

12:31 p.m.

sensations
I want to scratch the surface like I used to, watch the red rise from my chest and give me shivers. I want to feel the fever and the intense focus the pain would bring. I want the scratch, scratch, scratch of the pin parting my skin and separating me from myself.
I want to pierce my heart with a hat pin and break apart my breast bone so I can feel its warmth and beating. I want to feel the emptiness it leaves behind, gently finger the hole where it was, revel in the sensation of my ragged muscles and broken bones.
I want to heal myself. I want to lay close to death and watch my face grow less pale and see all my injuries scar. I want to wear that like a privilege - I was here, I survived, and I will never do that again. a badge of survivors. I persevered through all the shit I heaped upon myself.
I survived my own self-destruction and that is the hardest thing to get over.

Monday, December 10, 2007

10:46 p.m.

the night and the madness and it goes on and on and on
I don't know whether to compose a letter or paint-
so I'll do neither
and instead write about how I feel.
she sent me a check with no note. she wrote the wrong name on the front. it hurt, oh it hurt, and all I can think now is how to get back at her. all I can think now is how to make her hurt, too.
I miss him and I want him to know, but I don't know how to go about it. I could write so many things in so many ways but it blocks the pipe of my creativity and nothing flows out. I am overwhelmed and burning. nothing feels right.
if I had more time, if I'd known what time I had then I could have fit it all together like putting the top of a jack-o-lantern on the right way. it makes that noise. it slips in just right. but not tonight. tonight the edges are too smooth and nothing connects. it just slides around and around and never works out the way it's supposed to.
nothing fits.
can't sleep. won't eat. fidget. stress. panic. can't control it. don't know what to do. medicate. meditate.
dedicate. art to other people, make it, get rid of it, otherwise it destroys me.
so tired, so tired, so tired.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

01:56 p.m.

here it is, here I am, here you aren't
I am drinking at work. I am getting light headed. I am not eating enough. I am missing you. and you, and you, and you.
I am drawing pictures. I am writing letters. I am falling asleep. I never sleep enough anymore. I am always tired. I am confused. I am lost. I'm not really here anyway.
Remember when we ran from each other and I caught you and we fell and didn't stop falling until we fell away from each other? I lied. I am still falling. there is no bottom. there is only you, and me, and the space in between.
the dreams come and I'm not sure what's real anymore and when I wake up in the darkness I want to be asleep again and I miss having someone in my bed and I feel so alone today and everything is so dark that I just wish I could be in bed reading and crying and not existing at all.
I hate the cold.
today, I hate myself and everything and I don't know what to do but wait it out and make the best of a mess I created myself.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

01:27 p.m.

fortune for today.
today is the day you let it go. your chance will come.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

10:41 a.m.

in my head
I have been dreaming about her. she stalks through my brain, she exists, she says that she's dating someone new and I am afraid to find out if it's true.
I dreamt it was summer where she was and she swam with her friend while I remotely cut his hair. I dreamt that I could not stop loving her, even when she was hurting me. I opened my hands and nothing would fall from them, but when she opened her's I was gone.
feeling this pain makes me feel better because it means I'm trying to heal. crying sometimes means I've stopped hiding all that she meant to me. being at home means I'm not running away. I want to process this. I want to confidently file it away. I want the memory of her to be a memory and not an ache.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

07:57 p.m.

a refraction, a retraction, a refaction
I have not been listening to myself.
I say things like "men are nothing" then I say "love knows no gender" but these two phrases cancel each other out. I am wrong, so wrong, for putting down half the population based on some genetic fluke.
listen, it's the gender that I have problems with, not the sex. that's different. one's societal and the other is all about chromosomes. the chromosomes are fine, in fact they're great, it's the society that I could do without.
So I'm sorry, sorry, sorry (always speak in threes, baby, it's that special number that gets you noticed- repitititition is key and I'll teach you so many things with it or the lack thereof) if I fucked up by saying I will never be with another man like I could be with a woman because I think someone is in the process of teaching me a much needed lesson.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

10:55 p.m.

it's half way there, half way not.
today, I ache.
I ache for every bad thing that has happened, for every broken trust, for every time I wanted to die, for every heart I broke and for every time mine was broken. I am devoid of passion and full of pain and I want someone to fill me with something else. I want to fill myself and not expect someone else to do it for me.
I have one more hour until this is over. I know it will come again next year, but at least this time around it was only one day and not a week or a month or two months or an entire season. it's never easy. it will never be easy. that's what I live with ever since I decided not to die.
dreams and hurt and broken pieces that never mend and this part of me that will never be whole but can occasionally be fooled into believing it might heal. it doesn't. I run headfirst into everything and shave the bones so they fit in the wrong places and I grind together the muscle and sew it with dental floss so I can create this person that I am now. it's all misshapen but people look at it and think it's concrete. sometimes I think I am too. sometimes I believe what I'm saying. sometimes I even believe what they say too.
days like today, I ache for that person. I ache to feel that all the time. the truth is that this fragment is coming up less and less. makes it hurt more when it does appear. makes it bleed. makes me anxious. makes me want to die.
there are ways to blind one's self, there are ways to ignore. I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna ...
I miss her.
why am I doing this?
tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Monday, November 19, 2007

07:54 p.m.

written at work yesterday
since you walked away
I don't know where I've been
I go from house to house
person to person
trying to find where I left myself
but I am lost, lost, lost
and you too are wandering blindly
drinking your past to blend the present
I am quitting you
I discard this memory
I am done living your self-destruction
I am tired of hurting for the sake of it
this serves no one
this accomplishes nothing
and I am moving on-
as though saying it could make it true.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

11:53 p.m.

hurt you hurt me
I want to hurt you.
this is how I know I have to stop what I'm doing. I gotta put my head back where it's supposed to be. I knew it would come to this, but I wanted to put it off for as long as possible.
this past week was a daily dose of what I'd like to have in the future, but I can't have right now. there is no way. everything in me screams against it.
I want to hurt you because the situation hurts and you are the only thing I have to rally against. you are the only thing that I can point to and say, "there, there's the tumor. cut it off." but if you don't make sure the cancer hasn't spread, then it just comes back again. and I can't have that.
baby, I am trying so hard to get along. I am trying so hard to make my life work and put myself in order but it gets difficult. I miss having that one support beam that kept me standing. I know I'm not alone, not really, but emotional intimacy doesn't come easily to me without the physical stuff. I don't know how to open my heart without opening my legs. I don't know how to appreciate someone without fucking them.
I guess that's my problem to figure out. yeah, I guess that's my deal. I wish you were leaving. I want you to be gone. gone from my head, gone from my city, gone from my heart.
you never belonged here anyway. like you never really belonged with me. and we both know it, and always have.
goodbye goodbye goodbye. I'm going to change everything now. and you will have nothing to do with it when it's all said and done - except that you were the catalyst and the thought of actually hurting you made me take a step back and realize what I was doing.
so thank you, I've nothing more to say.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

07:49 a.m.

messages received: (truncated)
23:34:40- You have such a perfect body! I can't wait to feel your flesh under my tongue again!
01:05:48- I didn't notice thee post-it until I got home...you fucking rock, dirty grrl!

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

10:43 p.m.

messages received: (truncated)
07:51:12- Wouldn't it be great if my mouth was wrapped around your pussy right now?
13:46:02- I wish I was in bed with you instead of working...
17:19:25- I wish I could fake a migraine tonite so that I could spend a few hours licking your perfect pussy!!
22:07:31- You are so fuckin' dirty-pretty!

Monday, November 5, 2007

10:57 p.m.

a day of days
I hope you saw us kiss tonight outside of the bar. yeah, and I hope it hurt because-
I have had to hear about your drinking from one side
and from the other about how you want to stop
but at least I am mostly content in my actions.
I feel good. I do things. I meet people. I am fucking, but not fucked up. I am not you.
I am not you.
I am not you.
I am not you.
so who am I convincing - me or you?
I hope you saw us kiss tonight, outside the bar I was forbidden to enter. I went there once anyway, on a saturday, dressed as a zombie, for karaoke. I went in there and you weren't there and I thought, "I hope she doesn't see me" but really I wanted you to.
I want you to know how well I'm doing without you.
I want you to know how many friends I have.
I have not resorted to self-destruction.
I am not responsible for you or your actions.
I hope you saw us kiss tonight though at the time I wasn't even thinking of you. I was thinking of his lips. it wasn't until later that I realized where I locked my bike and how it would be in the line of vision where you usually sit. I felt bad, then good, then guilty, then malicious. later I stood outside with my other friend, talking, purposeful. hoping you'd see us. hoping you'd get jealous.
you have no idea how much it hurts to know that you are drinking yourself stupid. you have no idea how responsible I feel. how disappointed. I hate you for it. I miss you and I hate you and I love you and I don't fucking need you so please just move on and stop doing this to both of us.
please just get out of my head.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

08:47 p.m.

written at work today -
I need your sickness
to know I'm well.
waiting to hear about your latest binge
so I can justify mine
gotta know your heart's
just as empty
your mind
just as full
of memories and phantoms and dreams we shared
oh, so, we are apart but not separate
bandaged
but not healing
I cant, can't, can't
get rid of you
no matter how many people I fuck
and you can't, can't, can't
forget me
no matter how much you drink.
this is it, it's the circle
of feeding the flames with fire
it just rises,
the fuel doesn't matter,
and we can't shake each other
when we're too busy clasping hands
you can't beat the pain
baby
you gotta put down that bottle
I gotta close my mouth
embrace what heartache is
let the tears cover the sorrow
clean that wound
and just heal.

Friday, November 2, 2007

08:21 a.m.

it's free form, darling, and here I am
from feast to famine, baby, that's
how it's gonna be
one day I'll just stop eating
it's gonna be a
hungerstrike
til my demands are met
and my body will waste away
but my mind will become stronger.
yeah, I'm gonna
show all the doubters what I can do
and give my emotions a run for the money
gonna
dabble in loneliness
and find myself in art
and
stop fucking all those men
but for now I'm eating, baby,
eating my fill and then some
storing up for the hibernation
the uh future suffocation
of a conscious heavily burdened
by the realization
of its own conflicting existence.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

12:25 a.m.

an arbitrary number
I don't want to sugar coat this or edit my brain to the point that I don't know what I'm thinking. here's the truth - I'm fucking up by fucking. I know I am, but I don't want to stop because it feels too good. I am simultaneously falling for two amazing men when I know I can't really be with either of them because I can't really be with men anymore. Not now, at least.
I can take my experiences and blanket them with prose or with allegory or simile or metaphors but the fact is - these are good men that I am fucking and I love it but I think I'm messing up my future.
I have to stop it. I knew it would come to this eventually. one can be my best friend and the other, well, only time will tell. maybe just a break will do. maybe something more.
I don't want it to end. when do I ever?

Friday, October 26, 2007

12:15 a.m.

line breaks, heart aches, nothing
up too late (oh) but don't worry (no) cuz I'm not thinking of you.
got a dream, got a plan, gonna get off of you-
places to be. people to see.
oh and you just don't fit in-
to my lifestyle
anymore.
gotta
wake up! and find my shoes and then
be late to work again.
aren't you just so excited to be drinkin?
don't you miss me less and less with each swig?
no no no I'm sure it's under control
just like me
and my body
and my hormones
and my mouth, getting me into trouble, tasting trouble and -
liking it.
but knowing that all things end.
so now we're who we were were hiding
now we're not the better people we were,
just some conglomerate, some pieces stuck together with gum, of what was before, what was then, and what is now.
so, oh, I am sitting and no, I don't want you
but how I miss having you near.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

07:17 p.m.

m vs f
men are nothing.
they are a fuck, or kissing, or warm skin rubbing against mine.
they are eyes, and hands, and silence.
they start nothing, make no moves, follow my lead.

women are too much.
she reminded me of you. I can't do it. I can't be with women now. I can't because men make me forget but women just bring everything closer. she was how I wanted you to look. she kissed almost like you do, but not as well. she said, "I really like you" like you used to. and I said, "I can't do this." or something like that.
too young. too eager. too deceitful. not you though, she was not you.

I can't be with women right now. it makes me miss you too much.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

10:12 a.m.

where the desire is
I liked the way he smelled. it was sweat and musk and something I'd been missing. it was fake and natural and I can still smell him.
his mouth tasted like pumpkin. or ginger. something honest and earthen. his neck was the kind of salty that makes me want more. I couldn't stop tasting him. my mouth was so hungry.
these meaningless flings bring nothing to my emotions, to my heart. they do nothing to fill me. they temporarily sate my passion, or send it flaming higher but that is all. it's men, all men, because I know that in women I will find something I'm not ready to face just yet. a complication that I will want to unwind and wrap myself in. men are so easy. they just are what they seem to be.
a body. a voice. long fingers. veins.
uncomplicated.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

10:59 p.m.

the next goal
it is eleven and this is no special time except-
it's the time that I want to use to take back
everything I've ever said
good or bad or
mediocre.
I take it all back.
I take back everything and now I want to
forget every word that anyone said to me so I can
trust one person
anyone
implicitly
though the word "trust" doesn't describe what I mean
it must come through me,
by me
reflect back towards me
unspoken, unquestioned,
accepted
totally
.
not romantic trust, or
loving trust, just
any trust involving me and
one other person.
some kind of comfort.
something to soothe me.
something to exist.
here, at eleven
o'clock.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007