heartenedhand clasp, chestheartened
feast and gorge, ruined women am i the church of your passion, painted tongue throbbing jugular. the porch light and your eyes, sun-tickled
skin a harsh glow.
the baby soul of our relationship howling, gasping
death rattle rib shake. you are strong, muscles bulging and skin sliding soft across the expanse of your bones.
so i wish upon heartened star, upon faltered lips, so i wish for clarity, for reason.
EffusionI may have thought to turn once from you, deity of my deep thought, provoker of my restless sleeps. I may have thought to turn hard from your casual eloquence and your charm, bubbling in an effusion of bright chatter. I may have considered, idly,Effusion
fingering the situation as if it were worn cloth. It would be
conceivable that at some point I would have stood up and cast you off,
unbridled from the shackles of the anxious mess of our relationship.
Instead I bound myself to each curvature of your mouth, the soulless penetration of your gaze, and each nod of your sun-tossed head. I ch
Let's Talk About SexAbout how his name makes me start a little when I see it on caller ID or old letters or when our friends say it because they haveLet's Talk About Sex
no fucking idea
and everything I
positively associated with him like
Fugazi, "Das Boot", Carl Jung (help me, Father),
the zebra striped umbrella and the broken clasp on my bra
all now have undertones to cause cringes.
And how that one time I lay
down on the ground, on the grass, and tore at the roots and tore
at my arms, at 2 in the morning and made myself
listen to "Nevermind" over and over and over again until
I g
witch wicked a like spells she6witch wicked a like spells she
and he cried. She spelt ‘loving’ wrong, sorry but i could never stop loveng you He picked it up, holding back tears, and the note on the dresser read: As he was about to leave the room, he noticed something, a paper, on her nightstand.
5
He found her hanging from a rope above her bed, her flawless eyes rolled over, her neck slanted. He managed his way into a door marking her room. It was ajar, so he pushed it and went inside. I’m sure she’ll be home any minute now. He reassures himself, tapping his platinum wristwatch.
When He Told Me He Did Not+When He Told Me He Did Not
When he told me that he did not love me anymore - 2004:
No reaction. His hair reefed from the storm that day,
hands like two nets touching each other. Women in
my position throughout history have cried, have cast
bodies at their lover's feet. But me, no reaction: no
ellipsis where my heart should be. No monster on
my shoulders. No days after, nothing but cold pudding
in the refrigerator, wearing nothing but a pink bathrobe,
arms like doves or rain. No weeding the garden again. And again, and a
well THIS is uncomfortable
"Her work is acid and tender... hard as steel... and fine as a butterfly's wing. Loveable as a smile... cruel as... the bitterness of life." -Diego Rivera talking about Frida's work.
I feel the same could be said for you, my love.
and i guess you should know?
[link]
thanks though
np<3
diseased. of kissing another boy but never feeling it, on wanting to
be free but never leaving. of pushing, of pulling, of staying,
of inertia and wistfulness and pride. you look at me full in the face
and everything i want and need comes tumbling through and i am
wide-eyed, quivering and serene."
I just felt like re-emphasizing how fucking amazing and breathtaking and magnificent and awe-inspiring that is.
Seriously.
I read it and re-read it and read it AGAIN, and I am always just left jaw-dropped and saying nothing more literate than, "...Wow"
I got back last night from a trip to Mexico with my Him and his family, and you know what?
-I'm the biggest hypocrite in the world.-
I knew shit would happen, but I made myself believe that it wouldn't mean anything. The thing is, the lust-type of stuff that I'd anticipated barely did mean anything... if it even meant anything at all.
I just didn't count on him looking at me like he used to, or bringing extra headphones because he remembered that I lost my ipod, or kissing my forehead, or holding me when I had a nightmare, or cuddling at night, or butterfly and eskimo kisses.
[Of course, the cuddling came with moving away from me when he heard someone else come into the room, the days came with pointing out hot girls to me, a night or two came with him telling me of his half-feelings of regret, and it all came with him only holding me in public when we were drunk on halloween and walking around]
And you know what else?
I wish I could turn back time to more than a year ago.
And I'm almost back to where I started, but now I've got the knowledge that I don't want him-who-he-is-now. So now I'm stuck wishing on bullshit stars for the impossible.
And, if I make any sense at all to you, props, because I don't even make sense to myself.
--
A load to drop on someone you don't even know, right?
Eh. I guess it's easier that way.
Just felt like sharing.
oh well. im glad i got back into this
--
"Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink."
-Charles Bukowski
...
i think i have a man-crush.
--
"Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink."
-Charles Bukowski
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