What is it with me and unhappy endings? It's worse enough I can't write satisfying endings, sheesh.
********************
I came across a piece in a magazine saying he had written a screenplay that became a number one movie. It easily could have been someone else with the same name, but, when I turned to finish the article, there was a picture of him laughing with one of the producers and one of the actors.
I’ll always have that one image of him.
We stood apart but face to face, when he finally spoke,”I called you yesterday.”
I wasn’t looking at him, but staring inside the living room. People were drinking and flirting with each other, while a few of us sparingly sprinkled the backyard. I was holding a glass filled with apple juice, while he held a cigarette.
In between puffs, our silence was growing, until I looked at him and he was patiently waiting for me to talk.
“I don’t feel like I belong here anymore.”
I don’t know why I said that, but went and joined the others inside.
Before I stepped inside, I looked over at him, with that wistful mixture of confusion and sadness over his face. He scratched his head, and then slowly tossed his cigarette on the patio, before stomping it out.
He watched, as I turned away and walked off.
Two nights before, I was sitting in someone’s living room, laughing over mixed drinks with her, when her doorbell rang. It was late at night, and she was a mutual friend of ours.
“So, you’re telling me--”
Chelsea turned to the door.
“--I don’t know who that is. I’m not expecting anyone at this hour.”
I looked at the hands on the wall. It was nearly midnight.
She got up and went to the door.
He was standing there.
I noticed she looked at me, then back at him.
“I need to talk to you.”
“I can’t right now. I have company.”
She moved out of the way, and he saw me sitting on the couch, sipping a green cosmo.
My head slowly turned his way, and we found ourselves looking at each other.
My friend stood there, silently. She looked at us both, and a slight smirk came across her face before she quickly erased it off her face.
I couldn’t look at him anymore and turned away.
“Do you want to come in, Myles?”
I turned back to them.
He was looking right at me, when he said,”Is it a good idea?”
I made no indication, but she let him in.
She came back to where she was sitting, and he came and took a chair directly across from me.
“Want something to drink, Myles?”
He nodded, before taking a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and helping himself to one. Popping it in his mouth, he took his lighter from the same pocket and lit it, before sitting back in his chair.
My friend cleared her throat and pointed at the ashtray on the coffee table.
“You obviously don’t remember almost burning my house down, when you used one of my plants as an ashtray, Myles,” she said.
He took a puff then slowly pulled it from his mouth and said, “Not my fault that I didn’t have an ashtray near me.”
“That’s why that’s there now. Now, use it, Myles.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He leaned forward and picked up the square-shaped crystal object, before putting the cigarette back in his mouth.
A few minutes passed before any of us said anything.
My friend leaned closer to me, then whispered,”I hate to do this to you, but I have to go to the bathroom. Are you going to be okay?”
I looked at her, then slowly nodded.
She got up and then left the room.
I didn’t feel uncomfortable until he put his drink down on the coffee table and put his cigarette out on the ashtray, exhaling the smoke.
“I missed you.”
I quickly downed my drink, before starting in on making myself another. It didn’t matter what at this point, as he wasn’t blinking.
We sat there for a good minute. Neither one of us talked, as I drank, while he continued staring.
Chelsea hadn’t returned yet, when I was about to make myself another drink.
Before I could lean down and do it myself, he got up and took the glass out of my hand. I sat there as he dropped a couple of nearly melted cubes into it, then picked up the bottle of sloe gin.
He handed the glass back to me, before he made himself a vodka on the rocks.
Instead of sitting down, back in his chair, he sat down where our friend ‘s empty seat still remained.
I took a couple sips, before any words came out of me.
“I know you’ve missed me. You kept calling my place. When you stopped calling, you left texts. When you stopped texting, you left messages on my cell phone.”
“Why didn’t you answer any of them?”
I took a few more sips, before looking at him.
He wasn’t drinking, and his glass remained full, but his eyes didn’t leave the sight of his fingers gripping the glass.
Both of us were quiet when he turned to me and asked, “Was it something I did?”
I shook my head.
He started sipping his drink before he set it down on the table and took his pack out.
After lighting another cigarette, he smiled and stroke my cheek.
I slightly shuddered at his touch. That’s always how it was with us lately. I always let him have his way with me, because it was an obligation as his girlfriend. I didn’t love him but was kept satiated.
As we sat there, Myles pulled the drink out of my hand, before setting his cigarette on the ashtray and exhaling smoke.
I sat quietly, as he leaned closer and kissed my neck. My eyes slowly closed before we heard coughing trying to hide laughing.
“Not on the couch, please. I just had it cleaned, after Sam’s cat peed all over.”
He slowly moved away from me, stifling a chuckle, and picked his cigarette back up.
I picked up my drink and we sat there quietly, with his arm around me.
Our friend sat in the empty chair, looking at us, before picking up her glass from the table and spritzing some club soda.
I was in no condition to drive myself home, so Myles took me.
At least, that’s what I think happened, as I woke up, fully clothed, with his arms tightly wound around my body.
My eyes opened and his face was buried in my neck, snoring into my ear. I slowly moved arms from around me, but roused him.
We didn’t say a word for some time before looking at each other.
He slowly reached for my hand and I watched as fingers intertwined with mine.
I sat up and didn’t look at him, as our hands still remained.
Our hands stayed for a few minutes before slowly withdrawing.
I slowly got off the bed, after he gently moved his hand from an elbow to my back.
I was in the bathroom, when he started.
“I had the best night’s sleep in the longest time.”
I kept quiet, trying to find the aspirin.
His voice was conflicting with after effects of the rave party that had taken place inside my head, as he continued rambling, while he came and went from the toilet.
I finally located the medicine hidden between tampons and cotton balls. And, after downing a couple, and having a bit of water, I felt less worse.
I stood in the frame, and he was back on the bed, sitting on the edge and facing my direction.
We were looking at each other, when Myles got up, off the bed, and came over.
He only had three drinks so he had his wits about him. His half foot always made me look up, when he stood near.
I looked at him and he tried to bind my eyes to his, but couldn’t as I kept looking past him.
It lasted a few seconds, before I finally looked into his blue eyes, he bent down and braced his hands against the door frame, before kissing me.
My mouth was closed before he pried my lips apart.
When he finished kissing me, I was leaning against one side of the frame and arms circled his neck. His body pinned against mine and I could feel every inch of arousal reminding itself against my thigh.
We looked at each other, before he led me back to bed.
A few hours later, both of us heavily breathing and in reverse cowgirl, I slowly got off him and lied down.
Our bodies were separate, as I found myself staring at the ceiling.
Myles looked at me and moved closer, enveloping my body with his arm.
We were silent for some time, before he asked,”What are you thinking about?”
I looked at him and shook my head.
“It’s not important.”
He lightly traced my cheek with his fingers.
I stopped his hand, then turned away.
There was a long pause.
Myles moved as close as he could to me. He had one arm under his head, as the other tightly holding me against him, his wrist between my breasts.
My heart beating against it, as we didn’t say anything for a really long time.
I knew he would remember this moment as the one where he realized it was over.
***
A couple weeks passed and I didn’t return any of his calls or any of his emails. I loved him but my unhappiness wasn’t something I could suppress anymore.
Pretty soon, days turned into weeks turned into months turned into today. I sat there and found myself staring at his picture. I was already married to someone else and quite happy with him. But, I’ve always wondered if he was happy. There was nothing in the article about him seeing anybody, so I wasn’t sure if he was seeing anybody, but part of me was curious if he was.
Before I realized what I was doing, I called up Chelsea, who I haven’t talked with in a couple months, because she was in the process of relocating to another city for her new job.
I called her and she answered.
“Hello, sweetie. How are you and Jake?”
“We’re good.”
“But...”, she joked.
“But, nothing. I called because I was reading a magazine and saw a picture of Myles.”
“Oh. I haven’t heard that name in ages.”
“Actually, I was wondering if you still talk with him.”
“Not for a few months now. Why?”
“I was just wondering if you knew how he was these days?”
Pause. I could see her arching her eyebrow over the phone.
“Well....”
She started telling me how he was close to getting married but broke it off.
“Did he give you a reason why it didn’t work?”
“Oh. Just the obvious one.”
“The obvious one?”
“Yeah, he never got over someone. And, we both know who that person is.”
I didn’t say anything for a while, but then weakly said, “Me?”
“Yes, you, my dear. You are the one that got away. He was heartbroken when I told him you got married.”
“Is he doing good otherwise?”
“Considering, yes.” She paused then added,” He wants to see you again. If I give you his number, will you at least talk to him, so he will quit sounding like a wounded puppy?”
Begrudgingly, I said, “All right.”
I sat there two days later holding the piece of paper with his number on it and picked up the phone then dialed it.
I got his voicemail and left a message.
I wasn’t expecting a call an hour later, while I sat there in the car, about to leave for work.
“Hello?” I said.
“Kiara?”
“It’s me.”
Both of us were silent, before he suddenly blurted, “I can’t talk over the phone, but would you want to meet for coffee later?”
“I get off work at 5, so about 6ish. At the corner of Ash and J?”
“All right. I’ll be there.”
As soon as I walked in, I scanned the room and saw him in one corner, facing the door. He was sitting at a table, nursing something warm in a tall paper cup.
After I saw him, he stood up.
I walked over to him and he went to hug me, but I didn’t return it.
He had the same exact expression on his face, and pretty much looked the same, except that the last time I saw him, he was clean shaven.
I sat down and he offered to buy me a drink.
I accepted and we sat there for an hour, just talking and catching up.
He hadn’t changed much, except for living in a bigger place and people knew who he was.
While I was still drinking, I rested my left hand on the table and noticed he kept looking down at the table. His smile turned downwards.
He was about to ask about it, when my cell started ringing and I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hon, can you get something at the store?”
“What do you need, Jake?”
“Can you buy some orange juice?”
A laugh came out of me.
“All right. I’ll stop at the store. Right now, I’m having coffee with a friend of mine.”
“All right. But, hurry home.”
“Okay, Bye, Baby.”
“Bye, Hon.”
I hung up and looked at my watch.
“I have to go now.”
“All right.”
I stood up, and he stood up with me.
Before I walked off, he went in for another hug and I awkwardly accepted that and a kiss on the cheek.
I got home with a loaf of sourdough and two cartoons of orange juice.
Jake was setting dinner when I walked in.
I put the things away and went up to him, then we hugged and kissed.
“What are we having tonight?”
“Something good. Now, go change and relax.”
He slapped my ass before I went to our bedroom and changed out of my clothes. I looked at my cell and noticed I had a message, which I looked at. It was from Myles and I just deleted it after scanning it.
A few days passed and I found myself flipping through the television and they were about to interview someone, but I didn’t catch their name. I was about to change the channel when they showed a snippet of a future airing of an interview with the writer Myles Crepensky.
I wanted to toss my remote at the television.
The next morning, my husband and I were sitting at the kitchen counter on a Saturday morning, eating blueberry pancakes and drinking coffee and casually chatting.
We were talking about past relationships and I mentioned Myles.
It turned out my husband knew who he was, as he got up and got a collection of short stories he had been reading from the bedroom. It didn’t occur to me that it was the same person and was just a coincidence about the name.
As I sat there squirming, he happily read one of the short stories to me.
My reaction to the whole thing was complete silence.
The story was about something that Myles and I talked about a long time ago, when we were still dating.
I grabbed the book out of Jake’s hand and quickly scanned the 250 pages. Our whole relationship was mined and examined and exposed in full. Happiness didn’t exactly fill me, as I closed the book and set it down.
Jake started talking about the short stories and I found myself suddenly offer Myle’s phone number to him, despite my best judgement.
I reluctantly agreed for the three of us to meet for dinner.
There were actually four of us, as we all sat at a table, with myself and my husband at one side. Jake was a little star struck as Myles and a stunning well known actress sat at the other. The actress made no question in my mind that she was really into Myles, but it was obvious he didn’t feel the same way and I was amused he treated her more like a relative than a date the whole time.
Myles made it obvious who he was here to see, when at one point, he dropped something under the table, then he disappeared underneathe. The actress, Tuesday Flordamia, and my husband was talking about her last movie, and my husband was harmlessly flirting with her, but she only had eyes for my ex. I watched them and then felt something warm and slick against my exposed knee. I looked around and froze, as I realized Myles was under the table, licking my knee, a firm grasp on the back of my leg.
It seemed to last forever, before Myles resurfaced. All three of us looked at him, and he shrugged it off, saying he was tying his shoelaces.
I wasn’t too pleased about having to wipe my knee.
Tuesday and I went to the bathroom together, and we ended up talking about Myles. They had been dating for a couple weeks and she was quite smitten with him. She said she first laid eyes on him as they sat near each other at a movie premiere and she aggressively pursued him until he agreed to go on a date with her. She actually thought he was gay at first as she asked around and nobody seemed to recall him ever really going on many dates with other women, just two. I told her he was almost married at one point, and she seemed surprised.
She looked at me and asked how well I knew him.
I said, “I knew him better in the past then the present.”
She laughed it off then we went back to the table.
I got a message later that night from Myles, saying he wanted to see me again.
I reluctantly messaged him back, saying I would agree to it, but it had to be the last time we saw each other.
Three days later, I was alone with him, standing in the corner of a used bookstore. I had my back to him while perusing the titles and authors, and I could feel him standing behind me.
I slightly ignored him and could feel him breathing in big swallows.
He finally had enough and turned me around.
I hadn’t really expected him to touch me, or when I found him trying to melt me into his arms by kissing me.
After I stopped him, I started an argument.
He didn’t want to argue back, so he hugged me instead and rubbed the back of my head.
I broke out of his arms, completely frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me, and only to his own desires.
He said, “Everything I’ve done is because of you.”
I didn’t know how to respond but just looked at him and then walked off.
I didn’t return his calls or emails for the next two months.
Eventually, I assumed he would stop calling, but after three months he still called once a day.
I finally picked up and answered.
He asked to see me one more time.
I agreed, but just one more time.
It was horrible and a complete mistake, but it just doesn’t occur to him that this was and will always be one-sided.
Before I left, I let him hug me. It was passionate, as I felt him try to get every inch of me involved, and his mouth was on my neck, but I felt nothing and didn’t respond back.
I never saw him again, and four months later, I found an article in a magazine saying Tuesday and him were getting married.
Three months later, they were married.
A year later, they divorced.
Through-out this whole time, he continued to call.
Six months after that, Jake showed me a short story he came across that Myles had written and asked me if I knew where he got the idea for it.
The short story was of the main character imaging himself married to the one that got away and their life together.
I looked my husband dead in the eye and shook my head.
We never mentioned his name again, and his books and everything he wrote or touched mysteriously disappeared from our place within a week.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Story Seven, "The Weekend"
She came to stay with us for the week-end. It was my idea. She said she was looking for a place to stay, while she came for a visit. My wife, her sister, didn’t mind and allowed it, wanting to spend time with her, even though our company would be coming and going. I already agreed to the arrangement the moment I was asked.
Friday
After picking her up, we took her back to our place. My wife took her upstairs and showed Grace to the extra room, while I went into the kitchen and had a cup of coffee. She came in on the red eye expecting to walk around while people were freshly woken up and walking around.
We all went to sleep, after my wife wished her a pleasant stay.
A while later, I woke up and it was quiet. My wife lied next to me, still asleep. I slowly got out of bed and found Grace sitting on the couch, wide awake and writing a list.
I didn’t notice she was wearing ear buds when I sat down near her.
She didn’t look at me, at first, but set her pen down then slowly turned my way. Her eyes went behind me, towards the stairs, then smiled, before turning away and going back to her list.
I moved closer to her and ran a finger along her arm.
She stopped my hand.
There was a pause.
She looked at me again and sweetly smiled, then her eyes went over again towards the stairs. She moved away from me and went back to her list.
Not long after, my wife came down the stairs and asked if we both had breakfast.
She had a meeting with someone and I followed her. She was inside the building for half an hour, before she walked out. I was hiding in the bushes and saw as she looked up at the sky and buttoned up her coat. She disappeared around the corner.
After she left, I got back in the car and went home.
I was the only one at home, when she came back.
It had started pouring outside and she left without an umbrella.
The door unlocked and she stomped in, her hair stringy and dripping.
She saw me from the doorway and asked for a towel.
I motioned to the bathroom near her, and she went inside.
She came back out with her hair wrapped up and her coat off.
She hung her coat on the rack then came over to me. She sat on the couch and started unlacing her shoes.
Her presence was distracting and I couldn’t concentrate at the task at hand, which involved paying the bills.
I watched her, before she looked up and smiled at me.
Her shoes were off and she got up and set them near the others by the door.
As she came back, she started unzipping her sweater.
We’ve never been close enough to touch, so I was slightly nervous as she sat near me.
Both of us were motionless, as she rambled about getting lost, then she asked if anybody was home, and I said no.
She responded by running her hand through my hair jokingly.
I initially tried to resist her, even though she wasn’t consciously seducing me, but she let out this adorable giggle and I gave in.
We were upstairs, where I had her pressed up against the wall, us in various stages of undress and my tongue almost licking the inside of her throat.
Her whole body shook and I could feel her toes curling and uncurling on the back of my legs.
Her eyes were open and a smile came over her face as every inch of myself responded back to her raspy breathing and gasping.
Both of our breathing went back to normal and we looked at each other.
I wanted to kiss her again, but she refused my mouth and separated from me.
In bed that night, with my wife, I held her tight, but my thoughts were of Grace.
Saturday
We were sitting around the table, eating sunny side up eggs and toast, when my wife asked her what she was doing that day.
Grace shrugged.
My wife then added that we were going shopping and if she wanted to come along.
Almost perfectly timed, Grace’s cell started ringing in her pocket.
She seemed mildly shocked, then got up and walked out of the kitchen.
I could hear mostly mumbles and giggling, and maybe parts of words.
She came back in a couple minutes later, with a barely disguised grin on her face, before she said someone she met the day before had just called her.
My wife gleefully started asking questions about him, before asking if they were going to meet up that day.
Grace nodded, still grinning.
I had my back to my wife and Grace looked at me.
I wasn’t smiling.
My wife and I came back with white and plastic bags. I looked at the clock and it was about 3pm.
Grace was about to leave and I did a double-take on what she was wearing. She was mostly covered up, but I had to look when she bent over and started to put on one shoe.
My wife asked what time she will be back, which made Grace shrug, to which one of us said to not be late because we’ll worry about her.
I don’t know why, but I had to follow her again, and made some excuse about forgetting something.
I saw her from the car.
She walked up to a tall blonde man, and he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. I couldn’t read their lips but they flirted a while before he hugged her, then they walked off with his arm around her.
I started the car and followed them three blocks until they stopped in front of an apartment, where they talked, then he bent down and kissed her.
I had to park the car, after they disappeared inside the building.
My reaction scared me.
I visibly trembled then started crying.
After twenty minutes, I snapped myself out of it and left, to go buy the thing I said I forgot.
Both my wife and I sat on the couch, watching TV, when she walked back in several hours later.
My wife asked what how her date was, to which Grace stifled a giggle then said it was good.
I forced a smile and an atta girl.
She sat on the armchair and started to undo her boots. She slightly pulled her skirt up.
My wife and her chit-chatted while they were not looking at each other.
I wasn’t trying to be obvious, but while her skirt was exposing skin, my eyes kept going her direction. I was hoping to see more, but she suddenly and quickly took off her boots then flipped down her skirt.
My wife and I were lying in bed that night, and she was in the mood.
I made some excuse.
My wife still kissed me, but didn’t pursue it.
Sunday
It was about 6am and I lied awake. I silently got out of bed then went downstairs and turned on the TV.
Some evangelist was talking.
I put it on mute and looked around.
It was quiet and the sun was starting to rise.
I got up then down on my knees.
Five minutes later, I opened my eyes and then got back on the couch, temporarily relaxed. I had the remote in my hand and flipped through channels.
I finally fell asleep to the sound of some newscaster explaining that things are bad world-wide.
I woke up with sunlight streaming across my face.
The smell of coffee was coming from the kitchen and my wife was sitting, curled up near the couch, looking at the newspaper.
Grace was near her, looking at some store circular.
I started to stir and cringed at the ray that fell across my eyeball. I sat up and they both looked at me and smiled.
My wife suddenly got up and disappeared into the kitchen.
Grace said hello sleepyhead and I countered back with a mildly sarcastic laugh.
We were looking at each other and she had that seductive smile on her face.
I had a momentary flash of us in the hallway, but quickly shoved that thought out of my head, before I nodded for no reason and slightly twisted my face.
I followed her on foot, not caring if I was obvious, but she was oblivious.
She took public transit then walked three blocks.
He stood outside, having another cigarette. When he saw her, he took a couple more puffs then tossed it on the ground and crushed it with his sneaker.
She walked up to him and they embraced, before he bent down and they involved their saliva.
He was holding a bag, and she took his arm.
They walked the short distance, then inside the building.
Before they stepped into the elevator, she saw me standing in the doorway. She blinked but made no reaction.
I watched what floor they went up to and stood there, numb.
I could have gone up to that floor and possibly gotten lost among the maze of doors, only to find myself leaning my head against his door and listening to every moan and utterance to come from their mouths.
Instead, I went home to my wife and made love to her for hours. My body was in it, but my mind was detached and thinking about all the dirty things that guy was doing to her.
I kissed my wife on the cheek then rolled away from her.
She looked satiated.
I was still numb.
When Grace came back to the house, I sat on the couch, watching the news.
My wife was in another room, doing something.
Grace came in and undid her shoes, then sat down near me.
Before I could monitor what I was saying, I suggested the four of us go out to dinner.
She thought about it, then agreed. Her cell came out of her pocket, and she made a call.
The four of us sat around the table.
His name was Adam. They had casually met through friends back in her hometown, but had ran into each other the first day she was here.
When the ladies went to the bathroom, I ripped into him, asking everything that came to mind.
He graciously answered my questions, but I still wasn’t satisfied that he was good enough for her.
The ladies came back and things went back to normal.
After dinner, he kissed her cheek and they said their good-byes, before he went into his car and left.
The three of us went back to the house.
She was going home in the early morning as we came home to the dark and silence.
My wife went to bed, while Grace and I sat in the kitchen and drank coffee.
We kept each other company, and I could tell she enjoyed every second of it, much like I was.
The hours slowly passed and, at times, our yawns interrupted our words and thought patterns.
It was finally time for her to get on the plane and go home. I drove her to the airport and helped with her luggage, then watched her walk away.
She turned to me, right before the doors closed, and I could see her silhouette waving goodbye, before she walked out of my life, back into the way it was before she arrived.
I drove home and sat in the car. It was better to have her in the same room than so far away.
I went upstairs and crawled into bed, then kissed my wife on the cheek and fell asleep with Grace on my mind.
If I couldn’t have her near me, it would be good enough to hear her voice over the phone.
I missed her already.
Friday
After picking her up, we took her back to our place. My wife took her upstairs and showed Grace to the extra room, while I went into the kitchen and had a cup of coffee. She came in on the red eye expecting to walk around while people were freshly woken up and walking around.
We all went to sleep, after my wife wished her a pleasant stay.
A while later, I woke up and it was quiet. My wife lied next to me, still asleep. I slowly got out of bed and found Grace sitting on the couch, wide awake and writing a list.
I didn’t notice she was wearing ear buds when I sat down near her.
She didn’t look at me, at first, but set her pen down then slowly turned my way. Her eyes went behind me, towards the stairs, then smiled, before turning away and going back to her list.
I moved closer to her and ran a finger along her arm.
She stopped my hand.
There was a pause.
She looked at me again and sweetly smiled, then her eyes went over again towards the stairs. She moved away from me and went back to her list.
Not long after, my wife came down the stairs and asked if we both had breakfast.
She had a meeting with someone and I followed her. She was inside the building for half an hour, before she walked out. I was hiding in the bushes and saw as she looked up at the sky and buttoned up her coat. She disappeared around the corner.
After she left, I got back in the car and went home.
I was the only one at home, when she came back.
It had started pouring outside and she left without an umbrella.
The door unlocked and she stomped in, her hair stringy and dripping.
She saw me from the doorway and asked for a towel.
I motioned to the bathroom near her, and she went inside.
She came back out with her hair wrapped up and her coat off.
She hung her coat on the rack then came over to me. She sat on the couch and started unlacing her shoes.
Her presence was distracting and I couldn’t concentrate at the task at hand, which involved paying the bills.
I watched her, before she looked up and smiled at me.
Her shoes were off and she got up and set them near the others by the door.
As she came back, she started unzipping her sweater.
We’ve never been close enough to touch, so I was slightly nervous as she sat near me.
Both of us were motionless, as she rambled about getting lost, then she asked if anybody was home, and I said no.
She responded by running her hand through my hair jokingly.
I initially tried to resist her, even though she wasn’t consciously seducing me, but she let out this adorable giggle and I gave in.
We were upstairs, where I had her pressed up against the wall, us in various stages of undress and my tongue almost licking the inside of her throat.
Her whole body shook and I could feel her toes curling and uncurling on the back of my legs.
Her eyes were open and a smile came over her face as every inch of myself responded back to her raspy breathing and gasping.
Both of our breathing went back to normal and we looked at each other.
I wanted to kiss her again, but she refused my mouth and separated from me.
In bed that night, with my wife, I held her tight, but my thoughts were of Grace.
Saturday
We were sitting around the table, eating sunny side up eggs and toast, when my wife asked her what she was doing that day.
Grace shrugged.
My wife then added that we were going shopping and if she wanted to come along.
Almost perfectly timed, Grace’s cell started ringing in her pocket.
She seemed mildly shocked, then got up and walked out of the kitchen.
I could hear mostly mumbles and giggling, and maybe parts of words.
She came back in a couple minutes later, with a barely disguised grin on her face, before she said someone she met the day before had just called her.
My wife gleefully started asking questions about him, before asking if they were going to meet up that day.
Grace nodded, still grinning.
I had my back to my wife and Grace looked at me.
I wasn’t smiling.
My wife and I came back with white and plastic bags. I looked at the clock and it was about 3pm.
Grace was about to leave and I did a double-take on what she was wearing. She was mostly covered up, but I had to look when she bent over and started to put on one shoe.
My wife asked what time she will be back, which made Grace shrug, to which one of us said to not be late because we’ll worry about her.
I don’t know why, but I had to follow her again, and made some excuse about forgetting something.
I saw her from the car.
She walked up to a tall blonde man, and he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. I couldn’t read their lips but they flirted a while before he hugged her, then they walked off with his arm around her.
I started the car and followed them three blocks until they stopped in front of an apartment, where they talked, then he bent down and kissed her.
I had to park the car, after they disappeared inside the building.
My reaction scared me.
I visibly trembled then started crying.
After twenty minutes, I snapped myself out of it and left, to go buy the thing I said I forgot.
Both my wife and I sat on the couch, watching TV, when she walked back in several hours later.
My wife asked what how her date was, to which Grace stifled a giggle then said it was good.
I forced a smile and an atta girl.
She sat on the armchair and started to undo her boots. She slightly pulled her skirt up.
My wife and her chit-chatted while they were not looking at each other.
I wasn’t trying to be obvious, but while her skirt was exposing skin, my eyes kept going her direction. I was hoping to see more, but she suddenly and quickly took off her boots then flipped down her skirt.
My wife and I were lying in bed that night, and she was in the mood.
I made some excuse.
My wife still kissed me, but didn’t pursue it.
Sunday
It was about 6am and I lied awake. I silently got out of bed then went downstairs and turned on the TV.
Some evangelist was talking.
I put it on mute and looked around.
It was quiet and the sun was starting to rise.
I got up then down on my knees.
Five minutes later, I opened my eyes and then got back on the couch, temporarily relaxed. I had the remote in my hand and flipped through channels.
I finally fell asleep to the sound of some newscaster explaining that things are bad world-wide.
I woke up with sunlight streaming across my face.
The smell of coffee was coming from the kitchen and my wife was sitting, curled up near the couch, looking at the newspaper.
Grace was near her, looking at some store circular.
I started to stir and cringed at the ray that fell across my eyeball. I sat up and they both looked at me and smiled.
My wife suddenly got up and disappeared into the kitchen.
Grace said hello sleepyhead and I countered back with a mildly sarcastic laugh.
We were looking at each other and she had that seductive smile on her face.
I had a momentary flash of us in the hallway, but quickly shoved that thought out of my head, before I nodded for no reason and slightly twisted my face.
I followed her on foot, not caring if I was obvious, but she was oblivious.
She took public transit then walked three blocks.
He stood outside, having another cigarette. When he saw her, he took a couple more puffs then tossed it on the ground and crushed it with his sneaker.
She walked up to him and they embraced, before he bent down and they involved their saliva.
He was holding a bag, and she took his arm.
They walked the short distance, then inside the building.
Before they stepped into the elevator, she saw me standing in the doorway. She blinked but made no reaction.
I watched what floor they went up to and stood there, numb.
I could have gone up to that floor and possibly gotten lost among the maze of doors, only to find myself leaning my head against his door and listening to every moan and utterance to come from their mouths.
Instead, I went home to my wife and made love to her for hours. My body was in it, but my mind was detached and thinking about all the dirty things that guy was doing to her.
I kissed my wife on the cheek then rolled away from her.
She looked satiated.
I was still numb.
When Grace came back to the house, I sat on the couch, watching the news.
My wife was in another room, doing something.
Grace came in and undid her shoes, then sat down near me.
Before I could monitor what I was saying, I suggested the four of us go out to dinner.
She thought about it, then agreed. Her cell came out of her pocket, and she made a call.
The four of us sat around the table.
His name was Adam. They had casually met through friends back in her hometown, but had ran into each other the first day she was here.
When the ladies went to the bathroom, I ripped into him, asking everything that came to mind.
He graciously answered my questions, but I still wasn’t satisfied that he was good enough for her.
The ladies came back and things went back to normal.
After dinner, he kissed her cheek and they said their good-byes, before he went into his car and left.
The three of us went back to the house.
She was going home in the early morning as we came home to the dark and silence.
My wife went to bed, while Grace and I sat in the kitchen and drank coffee.
We kept each other company, and I could tell she enjoyed every second of it, much like I was.
The hours slowly passed and, at times, our yawns interrupted our words and thought patterns.
It was finally time for her to get on the plane and go home. I drove her to the airport and helped with her luggage, then watched her walk away.
She turned to me, right before the doors closed, and I could see her silhouette waving goodbye, before she walked out of my life, back into the way it was before she arrived.
I drove home and sat in the car. It was better to have her in the same room than so far away.
I went upstairs and crawled into bed, then kissed my wife on the cheek and fell asleep with Grace on my mind.
If I couldn’t have her near me, it would be good enough to hear her voice over the phone.
I missed her already.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
POETRY, SECTION EIGHT
1.
I spent another hopeless night awake.
Only one question ran through my head, though.
And it was
Where on this earth do I find such men?
My love life sucks.
Let me explain ...
Ever since I let myself get carried away AND lost my virginity--as if it were nothing--, I feel like it should give something back in return for all it has done to me.
It's not enough that the THREE I've experienced have changed me in some way.
Number one ...
I lost my state of innocence to. He was somewhat stupidt and made me HOPE every moment from then on would be better. He made me expect it.
Number two ...
I most experienced heaven with. At least, he knew what he was doing AND the only one I haven't regretted shagging. Our times were cut short only by the clock, since we would go to his place and stop because he didn't want to be late for class.
Number three ...
I hoped he would save me from my problem. I personally believe everything he did to me was a complete lie. Which is fine with me, because besides some things--things that I refuse to say--, most everything else was a lie on my part.
Whoever said that the first time is the best .... lied.
Whoever said the third's the charm... lied.
I know I'm not the one who told such bull, because 1 know the truth.
Everything you've ever heard before is a lie... At least, in sex.
2.
It was late one SUNDAY night.
The gate and two doors to my house were open.
With the light from the side of the house shining on us, we swore our undying love.
You promised to love me forever.
I promised to never leave you and to be completely faithful.
Then, we made love on the pavement.
How was I supposed to know that you were lying?
A certain Monday hit and at a CERTAIN PLACE, you gave me a letter that stated that I shouldn't let anyone else read it.
True, it wasn't happy.
True, you broke my heart.
True, I cried for the death of your love.
I realise how mistaken I was to feel so bad for myself, when everybody knows things come back to people in reverse.
One more thing, about that latter, I showed everyone how lame you are.
3.
Yesterday I got a phone call from someone that holds a strange place in my memories. I lost my state of purity to him.
That night was weird. After a phone call, it was decided that he show up, so that we could be together and do something.
Well, of course, he did show up. It was weird. We met outside my house and just went inside.
Inside and upstairs to my bedroom. On my bed, for an hour, we talked. I remember my radio and light were on, also.
That's not the only thing I remember Our clothes ... Him--a handed down purple tshirt with some holes and black jeans.
Myself--I wore striped shorts and a black t-shirt. I can't remember if I wore my glasses, but I think I did.
Anyway, after an hour, We kissed on my bed. Then, it led into other things.
Other things that I'm ashamed to want to admit, since it's rather personal. Then again, I told my best friend about everything.
4.
Friday! He'scomingFriday!Oh, no!Iwassolookingforwardtotheweekend.Ihavesomeplans, but he'sgoingtoruinthem.Thenagain, he knowswhereIlive.Damn!Hecan'tpossiblyremember.Oh, yeah ... hedoes ...NO! Please, NO!He'sarrivinginthemorning, too. IhopeIcanavoidseeinghim. Iwillnotcontacthim... willnotdoanythingwhenhearrives. Maybe, he'llgetthemessage thatIdon'twanttoseehim.Phonesaresuchevilthings. ThatishowTknow he'scomingintotown, because hetoldmeoveraphone. I wishIwasn'ttheonewhoanswered.Iwishsomeoneelsedid.Theonlygoodthingtocomeoutofallthisis-Well-Think-Think--Think--Ihavenoidea.See.Ican'teventhinkofanythinggoodoutofhisarrivalandtwoweekstay.I wishhewasn'tarriving.Yeah, I wish!
5.
I've got reasons to be over you ...
One, I never loved you purely with innocence and happiness.
I partially hid my dirty thoughts and unhappiness.
Two, I always found a reason to trust, when my heart knew otherwise.
I do thank you for all you have done for me, but I believe that I have fibbed a bit in return.
Three, you found someone else.
I have the strength to prove to myself I don't need you, since I have to deal with this.
I do believe you have done a good job with the new one.
All my wasted tears, wasted days, wasted dreams leave me with one thought, though ...
When the hell are you going to give me back my stuff?
6.
Nous nous couchons sur le lit.
Je suis sous toi, mon amour.
Ta main court par mes cheveux.
Mes yeux n'ouvre.
Je veux bien, mais mes pensees n'y sont pas.
Je me suis tombee amoureuse.
Pas toi.
Nos langues et 1evres echangent, mais me bouche mente.
Je ne peux pas a vrai dire meme si tu me demandes,
"Tu n'aimes, cherie?"
Je lui mente.
"Oui, mon petit chou, je t'aime ... Bien sur ... Bien sur."
Si seulement tu savais la verite.
Je n'taime pas.
Nous corps fait I'amour, mais je n'y suis pas.
Je n'y vais pas avec toi.
Pas avec toi.
Pas tu.
7.
please.
I'm tired of waiting.
When are you going to fuck me?
I've waited forever for the moment I want most.
Anywhere would be nice.
How about where we last messed around?
or, here?
There, maybe?
My mouth and body aches for usage.
They want to be worn and bruised from abuse.
It doesn't matter that you have a girlfriend.
Sex only involves two people.
please,
let me take your hands
and lead you somewhere where
I've been waiting to go to.
Please.
I'm tired of waiting ....
8.
All things aren't always what they look. Sometimes, they are just plain ugly.
The photograph that was in my hands was a picture of my ex-lover.
Curly, mousy blonde hair of unknown condition, because it was always dirty
--which is odd because he always took a shower.
His eyes were some shade of green, but he hated to wear his glasses,
so he had blue contacts.
I used to think him stunning.
It was a black and white photo that remained after he left me for another girl.
She had none of the charms I pursued him with.
A girl of taller stature than I'll ever be, but with none of my looks.
I had the inferior of the two, which made me angrier.
I should be angrier that she has everything I don't.
Yet, I know one day she will leave him as coldly as he left my life.
It may be hope, but I feel things come back to people in reverse.
He may not of felt I was a major component in his life, but I know better.
There's still enough hope in me to push away the demons that threaten to rip me apart.
Disgust, anger, pity...All just strange words that mean nothing to me.
I'll be there the day he is left behind, while she goes on to someone else,
and lets him know how worthless he really is.
It's not her fault--Everything is his.
I have enough to make him an object to ridicule, but I prefer not to put him on such a pedestal.
I took that photo from someone else, who since has disowned me--So, I have no choice but to destroy it.
Flame, trash, or (where he belongs) run-overed is the only question.
I crumpled my little reminder of someone who chose to be really ugly.
9.
I'm the pit stop girlfriend.
In-between long term relationships, men go to me for a rest.
Longevity isn't my specialty.
I don't enforce it.
I know how to be used as a gas station or diner.
One guy, or a couple of them, found my motelness pleasant.
A dinner, a bed, and some other things.
The motel brochure lied about the way through most of his wants were promised.
His bed caused some relief, but, in the end, he grew irritable and left the motel and started on the road.
Another guy found the motel attractive.
The exterior was clean and neatly kept.
Once he discovered the obvious flaws, after a while of staying in the motel.
It drove him mad ard he packed, iust the same
The other men in their vay lived in the motel, also.
Each one found something not to his liking.
One day, someone at the motel will call it home.
{september 10, 1996; finished at 2:38am}
10.
I swore it would never happen again.
I've let another one come and disappoint me.
Should have known it would end up the same.
It had to begin somewhere, so obviousIy it began at the start.
The first one, I knew for some time, before I let him anywhere near me.
Not even a hug or anything, although the custom between my friends and myself is the opposite.
He was a huge disappointrnent, and started me off on my bad streak.
The part that made it bad was NOT ONLY did he forget the protection
after I had been assured be would have it, but he was just AWFUL!
Didn't touch me enough there.
Touched me too much there.
Just generally did not do what I wanted him to do to me.
He was as good as he could get, which is more than I ran say about his method.
11.
Outside the classroom, I stand against the wall that looks and feels like cobblestone.
In the sky I see the pinkish, gray clouds.
It's hot, but the sun seems not to be at fault.
It's from the nearby fire that resulted from some idiot setting the land on fire accidentally.
Nothing is accidental, though.
I'm separated from the others who stand on the opposite side of this place I stand.
No smells come to me, but memories fill my senses.
The tiny flashbacks of my day are my memories.
Nothing really matters around me because I am too involved in my thoughts.
It doesn't matter what is going on around me, because I am thinking too much.
12.
Once an innocent flower was blooming amongsst the foliage, when someone came along and saw it.
The person zeroed in, and found it to be the most beautiful of everything they have ever known.
So, the person came along and picked the flower from out of its place in the grass.
It was a beautiful flower.
The petals were a purplish blue
--the others were other colors of the rainbow
The person soon found themselves hold it in their hands.
The person held it, gingerly touching the petals, the stem. the center.
After holding it up to the sun, with its dewy reflection, they took it home and put in a vase.
When it died, it was pressed inbetween two pieces of glass and made into an ornament.
13.
He caught me kiss someone else.
I smeared lipstick all over the mouth and cheeks of my accomplice.
My hands firmly planted on the other's shoulders.
What he didn't know was both of us were intentionally upsetting him.
My friend and I knew we were acting, but my boyfriend didn't.
Just to take a peek, we pretended to be in love and looked into each other's eyes.
Then, quickly, my friend glanced over at the direction he was standing.
I saw my flinch at the slight.
Before I could do anything, I felt myself pulled apart and dragged away.
A few steps later, I felt him tightly wrap his limbs and hands about myself.
My head was thrown back by the force of his mouth.
Usually kisses won't make me forgive a person, but this time was different.
14.
If I close my eyes, I can picture it clearly.
It's rectangle in shape.
A simple black and white photograph of him.
[We had exchanged photos of ourselves, and that's the one I liked best of several.]
I see him on the right of the picture.
He's sitting in the back of someone's car.
From the window you can't tell if he's arriving or leaving.
You see the leather (or vinyl) seats, the windows and some of the inside roof.
Behind him, which can be seen through the window, you see a part of another car, part of a tree and part of a building.
He has a smile on his face--well, a grin baring his teeth--and a big gap in the middle of the top teeth, which is obvious.
There's not much to say that can describe him.
His shirt makes his head look smaller than it is.
What a shame, since he's not as dorky looking as that picture makes him out to be.
I spent another hopeless night awake.
Only one question ran through my head, though.
And it was
Where on this earth do I find such men?
My love life sucks.
Let me explain ...
Ever since I let myself get carried away AND lost my virginity--as if it were nothing--, I feel like it should give something back in return for all it has done to me.
It's not enough that the THREE I've experienced have changed me in some way.
Number one ...
I lost my state of innocence to. He was somewhat stupidt and made me HOPE every moment from then on would be better. He made me expect it.
Number two ...
I most experienced heaven with. At least, he knew what he was doing AND the only one I haven't regretted shagging. Our times were cut short only by the clock, since we would go to his place and stop because he didn't want to be late for class.
Number three ...
I hoped he would save me from my problem. I personally believe everything he did to me was a complete lie. Which is fine with me, because besides some things--things that I refuse to say--, most everything else was a lie on my part.
Whoever said that the first time is the best .... lied.
Whoever said the third's the charm... lied.
I know I'm not the one who told such bull, because 1 know the truth.
Everything you've ever heard before is a lie... At least, in sex.
2.
It was late one SUNDAY night.
The gate and two doors to my house were open.
With the light from the side of the house shining on us, we swore our undying love.
You promised to love me forever.
I promised to never leave you and to be completely faithful.
Then, we made love on the pavement.
How was I supposed to know that you were lying?
A certain Monday hit and at a CERTAIN PLACE, you gave me a letter that stated that I shouldn't let anyone else read it.
True, it wasn't happy.
True, you broke my heart.
True, I cried for the death of your love.
I realise how mistaken I was to feel so bad for myself, when everybody knows things come back to people in reverse.
One more thing, about that latter, I showed everyone how lame you are.
3.
Yesterday I got a phone call from someone that holds a strange place in my memories. I lost my state of purity to him.
That night was weird. After a phone call, it was decided that he show up, so that we could be together and do something.
Well, of course, he did show up. It was weird. We met outside my house and just went inside.
Inside and upstairs to my bedroom. On my bed, for an hour, we talked. I remember my radio and light were on, also.
That's not the only thing I remember Our clothes ... Him--a handed down purple tshirt with some holes and black jeans.
Myself--I wore striped shorts and a black t-shirt. I can't remember if I wore my glasses, but I think I did.
Anyway, after an hour, We kissed on my bed. Then, it led into other things.
Other things that I'm ashamed to want to admit, since it's rather personal. Then again, I told my best friend about everything.
4.
Friday! He'scomingFriday!Oh, no!Iwassolookingforwardtotheweekend.Ihavesomeplans, but he'sgoingtoruinthem.Thenagain, he knowswhereIlive.Damn!Hecan'tpossiblyremember.Oh, yeah ... hedoes ...NO! Please, NO!He'sarrivinginthemorning, too. IhopeIcanavoidseeinghim. Iwillnotcontacthim... willnotdoanythingwhenhearrives. Maybe, he'llgetthemessage thatIdon'twanttoseehim.Phonesaresuchevilthings. ThatishowTknow he'scomingintotown, because hetoldmeoveraphone. I wishIwasn'ttheonewhoanswered.Iwishsomeoneelsedid.Theonlygoodthingtocomeoutofallthisis-Well-Think-Think--Think--Ihavenoidea.See.Ican'teventhinkofanythinggoodoutofhisarrivalandtwoweekstay.I wishhewasn'tarriving.Yeah, I wish!
5.
I've got reasons to be over you ...
One, I never loved you purely with innocence and happiness.
I partially hid my dirty thoughts and unhappiness.
Two, I always found a reason to trust, when my heart knew otherwise.
I do thank you for all you have done for me, but I believe that I have fibbed a bit in return.
Three, you found someone else.
I have the strength to prove to myself I don't need you, since I have to deal with this.
I do believe you have done a good job with the new one.
All my wasted tears, wasted days, wasted dreams leave me with one thought, though ...
When the hell are you going to give me back my stuff?
6.
Nous nous couchons sur le lit.
Je suis sous toi, mon amour.
Ta main court par mes cheveux.
Mes yeux n'ouvre.
Je veux bien, mais mes pensees n'y sont pas.
Je me suis tombee amoureuse.
Pas toi.
Nos langues et 1evres echangent, mais me bouche mente.
Je ne peux pas a vrai dire meme si tu me demandes,
"Tu n'aimes, cherie?"
Je lui mente.
"Oui, mon petit chou, je t'aime ... Bien sur ... Bien sur."
Si seulement tu savais la verite.
Je n'taime pas.
Nous corps fait I'amour, mais je n'y suis pas.
Je n'y vais pas avec toi.
Pas avec toi.
Pas tu.
7.
please.
I'm tired of waiting.
When are you going to fuck me?
I've waited forever for the moment I want most.
Anywhere would be nice.
How about where we last messed around?
or, here?
There, maybe?
My mouth and body aches for usage.
They want to be worn and bruised from abuse.
It doesn't matter that you have a girlfriend.
Sex only involves two people.
please,
let me take your hands
and lead you somewhere where
I've been waiting to go to.
Please.
I'm tired of waiting ....
8.
All things aren't always what they look. Sometimes, they are just plain ugly.
The photograph that was in my hands was a picture of my ex-lover.
Curly, mousy blonde hair of unknown condition, because it was always dirty
--which is odd because he always took a shower.
His eyes were some shade of green, but he hated to wear his glasses,
so he had blue contacts.
I used to think him stunning.
It was a black and white photo that remained after he left me for another girl.
She had none of the charms I pursued him with.
A girl of taller stature than I'll ever be, but with none of my looks.
I had the inferior of the two, which made me angrier.
I should be angrier that she has everything I don't.
Yet, I know one day she will leave him as coldly as he left my life.
It may be hope, but I feel things come back to people in reverse.
He may not of felt I was a major component in his life, but I know better.
There's still enough hope in me to push away the demons that threaten to rip me apart.
Disgust, anger, pity...All just strange words that mean nothing to me.
I'll be there the day he is left behind, while she goes on to someone else,
and lets him know how worthless he really is.
It's not her fault--Everything is his.
I have enough to make him an object to ridicule, but I prefer not to put him on such a pedestal.
I took that photo from someone else, who since has disowned me--So, I have no choice but to destroy it.
Flame, trash, or (where he belongs) run-overed is the only question.
I crumpled my little reminder of someone who chose to be really ugly.
9.
I'm the pit stop girlfriend.
In-between long term relationships, men go to me for a rest.
Longevity isn't my specialty.
I don't enforce it.
I know how to be used as a gas station or diner.
One guy, or a couple of them, found my motelness pleasant.
A dinner, a bed, and some other things.
The motel brochure lied about the way through most of his wants were promised.
His bed caused some relief, but, in the end, he grew irritable and left the motel and started on the road.
Another guy found the motel attractive.
The exterior was clean and neatly kept.
Once he discovered the obvious flaws, after a while of staying in the motel.
It drove him mad ard he packed, iust the same
The other men in their vay lived in the motel, also.
Each one found something not to his liking.
One day, someone at the motel will call it home.
{september 10, 1996; finished at 2:38am}
10.
I swore it would never happen again.
I've let another one come and disappoint me.
Should have known it would end up the same.
It had to begin somewhere, so obviousIy it began at the start.
The first one, I knew for some time, before I let him anywhere near me.
Not even a hug or anything, although the custom between my friends and myself is the opposite.
He was a huge disappointrnent, and started me off on my bad streak.
The part that made it bad was NOT ONLY did he forget the protection
after I had been assured be would have it, but he was just AWFUL!
Didn't touch me enough there.
Touched me too much there.
Just generally did not do what I wanted him to do to me.
He was as good as he could get, which is more than I ran say about his method.
11.
Outside the classroom, I stand against the wall that looks and feels like cobblestone.
In the sky I see the pinkish, gray clouds.
It's hot, but the sun seems not to be at fault.
It's from the nearby fire that resulted from some idiot setting the land on fire accidentally.
Nothing is accidental, though.
I'm separated from the others who stand on the opposite side of this place I stand.
No smells come to me, but memories fill my senses.
The tiny flashbacks of my day are my memories.
Nothing really matters around me because I am too involved in my thoughts.
It doesn't matter what is going on around me, because I am thinking too much.
12.
Once an innocent flower was blooming amongsst the foliage, when someone came along and saw it.
The person zeroed in, and found it to be the most beautiful of everything they have ever known.
So, the person came along and picked the flower from out of its place in the grass.
It was a beautiful flower.
The petals were a purplish blue
--the others were other colors of the rainbow
The person soon found themselves hold it in their hands.
The person held it, gingerly touching the petals, the stem. the center.
After holding it up to the sun, with its dewy reflection, they took it home and put in a vase.
When it died, it was pressed inbetween two pieces of glass and made into an ornament.
13.
He caught me kiss someone else.
I smeared lipstick all over the mouth and cheeks of my accomplice.
My hands firmly planted on the other's shoulders.
What he didn't know was both of us were intentionally upsetting him.
My friend and I knew we were acting, but my boyfriend didn't.
Just to take a peek, we pretended to be in love and looked into each other's eyes.
Then, quickly, my friend glanced over at the direction he was standing.
I saw my flinch at the slight.
Before I could do anything, I felt myself pulled apart and dragged away.
A few steps later, I felt him tightly wrap his limbs and hands about myself.
My head was thrown back by the force of his mouth.
Usually kisses won't make me forgive a person, but this time was different.
14.
If I close my eyes, I can picture it clearly.
It's rectangle in shape.
A simple black and white photograph of him.
[We had exchanged photos of ourselves, and that's the one I liked best of several.]
I see him on the right of the picture.
He's sitting in the back of someone's car.
From the window you can't tell if he's arriving or leaving.
You see the leather (or vinyl) seats, the windows and some of the inside roof.
Behind him, which can be seen through the window, you see a part of another car, part of a tree and part of a building.
He has a smile on his face--well, a grin baring his teeth--and a big gap in the middle of the top teeth, which is obvious.
There's not much to say that can describe him.
His shirt makes his head look smaller than it is.
What a shame, since he's not as dorky looking as that picture makes him out to be.
POETRY, SECTION SEVEN
1.
Who are you?
Every time I look out my window, I see you at your window looking back.
Not too long ago, I peered out.
You stood, doing something with a white object, looking back.
Sure, it could be exciting, that my sick impulses to be watched are fulfilled, but we've created an odd bond.
2.
My biggest fear is
not being myself or me
but being neither.
3.
Sitting by this window,
I want to see you.
I want to open my blinds and
find you standing and hoping
for a peek of myself.
Every time I visualise the situation,
you find a way to crawl into the picture.
There's not a time you're never there.
Physically, your presence is missing.
I tend to find this annoying.
Our connexion is broken,
unless you can figure out how to break this barrier between.
The decision isn't up to me, since I know what I want.
It's obvious what I want.
4.
I'm walking to there.
I don't know the reason why.
Maybe to a friend.
5.
I'm so frustrated.
I want to get nailed right now.
I know who I want.
6.
Perhaps you thought of this, also.
Can you imagine us together stripped bare of clothing in one piano room, after I exposed my garter to you and you kissed my thigh?
Can you imagine us together with your body pinning mine against the white walls, and my legs wrapped about yours? And our gasps?
Can you imagine us together my begging for you to do more touching that part, or more kissing that part, or more fucking that part?
Can you imagine us together with my hands on the piano seat and I-m bending over in front of you and you are fucking me and kissing my back?
Can you imagine us together and we're both screaming and making so much noise other people in that hallway are gathered around the door, listening?
7.
My body is a fire.
It is full of warmth and flames.
The wood limbs & red sparks fanned on by more tree parts and oxygen.
The earth is under me where I've staked my area,
where sand gets in-between the branches.
Slowly, I disappear into the air, leaving useless wood pieces.
Until then, fuel is going to keep being tossed at me.
I will be vibrant & alive.
8.
We need to talk soon.
Another problem came up.
I love you more now.
9.
You were my first love.
We met an odd way.
Someone was talking to me, while I was facing away.
While she spoke, I turned to her.
You were in-between us and stood in front of me.
I looked up at you.
You were smiling at me.
Your tall stature made me feel small.
I don't remember how overcome I was.
There was the most attractive male in the room in my presence.
Tall, glasses, red hair, t-shirt jeans.
I loved you then.
Do I still love you?
I don't know.
10.
The dress is crinkled.
Blue with creases down the back.
Plus, a side zipper.
11.
Parts of my history are coming back to remind me who I was before.
Today, I was given written accounts and stories that I've penned some time ago.
This past week, memories of a love have filled my talks.
I don't understand why I need these things lately.
Why now?
12.
I'm tired of having my heart broken.
I wish the universe would grant my wish for a man.
Some man who'll be faithful,
and could satisfy me three ways: emotionally, mentally & physically.
Experience not necessary.
Sweetness & patience a must.
Smokers and/or drinkers, a plus.
Red hair, an even bigger plus.
13.
There are two advantages to
having a boyfriend:
companionship and sex.
One can be solved by owning
a pet:
Puppy, kitten, animate or
inanimate.
The other can be solved by
& a vibrator.
Any questions?
14.
There has to be a reason for why you aren't interested.
If it's for my looks, than I have some advice for you.
GO FUCK YOURSELF!
15.
you know what i think.
it's only an opinion.
i hate your bald spot.
16.
when a brunette girl
lusts completely after you
you better be nice.
17.
Our chemistry sucks.
We don't compliment each other.
you have dark hair.
I have dark hair.
you wear glasses.
I wear glasses.
you're an arsehole.
I'm a bitch.
We aren't opposites,
We are sames.
18.
My weakness is kisses down the neck.
Nibbling down the nape.
It makes my thighs tingle & my mouth water.
Then again regular kisses do the same thing.
19.
The thing that inspires me is someone saying,
"No. You can't do it."
Of course, I can.
20.
Porno excites me.
people screwing each other
i wish it was me.
21.
In the cool darkness of the room, two friends joked about.
The man pretended was the woman was his piano and played her imaginary keys.
She lay on her back, while his hands tickled her.
She momentarily held his hands to keep him from continuing.
He was starting to arouse her.
It got to the point that she wanted him badly.
Absentmindedly, she moved her arm near the area.
After a few teases, he let her lie there, while he undid his zipper.
The stuff they did to each other.
She went from blowing him to wrapping her legs around his neck.
I know exactly what ran through her head,
and how she felt through the details.
The woman is me.
22.
Whatever wishes I have,
they will never come true.
Neither the person or myself want them to.
Contrary to popular belief,
I don't spend all my time thinking.
I do tend to find myself where I can just sit there and do nothing.
The voices in my head are always conflicting.
Sometimes they're not even mine.
I don't know if I'm being telepathic or being incredibly delusional.
I could be either on the verge of a breakthrough
OR a breakdown.
Reading minds isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Sometimes it is something you don't want to know.
23.
The photograph of him smiling lay in front of the candles anointed with oils.
Candles of red and white, plus a single shaped one.
A candle in the shape of a human heart that is sliced in two halves, but tied together.
I pricked my finger and let it drip onto the photo.
An engraved cup of red wine was brought to my lips, which both hands held.
I set it down, then spit at the photo.
The wine diluted the blood, covering the photograph.
With the heart candle that shared one wick, I burned the photograph.
The blood and wine dripped onto the wax, while it burned.
The ash and human heart candle were shoved into a little fabric bag and tied, then tossed away.
24.
On the stage, I acted the part of me.
Some dramatic play was the script I had to follow.
There was a male lead and several supporting cast members.
We all revolved around the idea of some predictable love story.
Practice made us all stronger in who we pretended to be.
As soon as the lights were on and the drapes lifted,
our audience watched our reactions to each other.
A month after this stint, I got sick and had to lose my role to another woman.
The others had to keep being who they are,
while the other woman became me.
25.
He was in the middle of sleep when I walked into his room.
One pillow was under his head,
while another was tossed on the floor.
The pillow was small and fluffy.
It was white with smear marks.
Small pink streaks.
Upon close inspection, I found it to be lipstick.
Not my shade.
Being his girlfriend,
it angered me to find some stranger's lipstick there.
Holding the pillow in my hand, I walked over to him.
The gentle chest heaving, the gentle breaths, the sweet snoring & the sweet reclining posture.
I sat down next to him and watched for a few seconds.
Bending over, I sucked the last breath from his partially opened mouth.
He still slept.
I positioned the pillow
--lipstick side up--
and pushed it down.
Pillows can be fluffy, but they can also stifle.
Who are you?
Every time I look out my window, I see you at your window looking back.
Not too long ago, I peered out.
You stood, doing something with a white object, looking back.
Sure, it could be exciting, that my sick impulses to be watched are fulfilled, but we've created an odd bond.
2.
My biggest fear is
not being myself or me
but being neither.
3.
Sitting by this window,
I want to see you.
I want to open my blinds and
find you standing and hoping
for a peek of myself.
Every time I visualise the situation,
you find a way to crawl into the picture.
There's not a time you're never there.
Physically, your presence is missing.
I tend to find this annoying.
Our connexion is broken,
unless you can figure out how to break this barrier between.
The decision isn't up to me, since I know what I want.
It's obvious what I want.
4.
I'm walking to there.
I don't know the reason why.
Maybe to a friend.
5.
I'm so frustrated.
I want to get nailed right now.
I know who I want.
6.
Perhaps you thought of this, also.
Can you imagine us together stripped bare of clothing in one piano room, after I exposed my garter to you and you kissed my thigh?
Can you imagine us together with your body pinning mine against the white walls, and my legs wrapped about yours? And our gasps?
Can you imagine us together my begging for you to do more touching that part, or more kissing that part, or more fucking that part?
Can you imagine us together with my hands on the piano seat and I-m bending over in front of you and you are fucking me and kissing my back?
Can you imagine us together and we're both screaming and making so much noise other people in that hallway are gathered around the door, listening?
7.
My body is a fire.
It is full of warmth and flames.
The wood limbs & red sparks fanned on by more tree parts and oxygen.
The earth is under me where I've staked my area,
where sand gets in-between the branches.
Slowly, I disappear into the air, leaving useless wood pieces.
Until then, fuel is going to keep being tossed at me.
I will be vibrant & alive.
8.
We need to talk soon.
Another problem came up.
I love you more now.
9.
You were my first love.
We met an odd way.
Someone was talking to me, while I was facing away.
While she spoke, I turned to her.
You were in-between us and stood in front of me.
I looked up at you.
You were smiling at me.
Your tall stature made me feel small.
I don't remember how overcome I was.
There was the most attractive male in the room in my presence.
Tall, glasses, red hair, t-shirt jeans.
I loved you then.
Do I still love you?
I don't know.
10.
The dress is crinkled.
Blue with creases down the back.
Plus, a side zipper.
11.
Parts of my history are coming back to remind me who I was before.
Today, I was given written accounts and stories that I've penned some time ago.
This past week, memories of a love have filled my talks.
I don't understand why I need these things lately.
Why now?
12.
I'm tired of having my heart broken.
I wish the universe would grant my wish for a man.
Some man who'll be faithful,
and could satisfy me three ways: emotionally, mentally & physically.
Experience not necessary.
Sweetness & patience a must.
Smokers and/or drinkers, a plus.
Red hair, an even bigger plus.
13.
There are two advantages to
having a boyfriend:
companionship and sex.
One can be solved by owning
a pet:
Puppy, kitten, animate or
inanimate.
The other can be solved by
& a vibrator.
Any questions?
14.
There has to be a reason for why you aren't interested.
If it's for my looks, than I have some advice for you.
GO FUCK YOURSELF!
15.
you know what i think.
it's only an opinion.
i hate your bald spot.
16.
when a brunette girl
lusts completely after you
you better be nice.
17.
Our chemistry sucks.
We don't compliment each other.
you have dark hair.
I have dark hair.
you wear glasses.
I wear glasses.
you're an arsehole.
I'm a bitch.
We aren't opposites,
We are sames.
18.
My weakness is kisses down the neck.
Nibbling down the nape.
It makes my thighs tingle & my mouth water.
Then again regular kisses do the same thing.
19.
The thing that inspires me is someone saying,
"No. You can't do it."
Of course, I can.
20.
Porno excites me.
people screwing each other
i wish it was me.
21.
In the cool darkness of the room, two friends joked about.
The man pretended was the woman was his piano and played her imaginary keys.
She lay on her back, while his hands tickled her.
She momentarily held his hands to keep him from continuing.
He was starting to arouse her.
It got to the point that she wanted him badly.
Absentmindedly, she moved her arm near the area.
After a few teases, he let her lie there, while he undid his zipper.
The stuff they did to each other.
She went from blowing him to wrapping her legs around his neck.
I know exactly what ran through her head,
and how she felt through the details.
The woman is me.
22.
Whatever wishes I have,
they will never come true.
Neither the person or myself want them to.
Contrary to popular belief,
I don't spend all my time thinking.
I do tend to find myself where I can just sit there and do nothing.
The voices in my head are always conflicting.
Sometimes they're not even mine.
I don't know if I'm being telepathic or being incredibly delusional.
I could be either on the verge of a breakthrough
OR a breakdown.
Reading minds isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Sometimes it is something you don't want to know.
23.
The photograph of him smiling lay in front of the candles anointed with oils.
Candles of red and white, plus a single shaped one.
A candle in the shape of a human heart that is sliced in two halves, but tied together.
I pricked my finger and let it drip onto the photo.
An engraved cup of red wine was brought to my lips, which both hands held.
I set it down, then spit at the photo.
The wine diluted the blood, covering the photograph.
With the heart candle that shared one wick, I burned the photograph.
The blood and wine dripped onto the wax, while it burned.
The ash and human heart candle were shoved into a little fabric bag and tied, then tossed away.
24.
On the stage, I acted the part of me.
Some dramatic play was the script I had to follow.
There was a male lead and several supporting cast members.
We all revolved around the idea of some predictable love story.
Practice made us all stronger in who we pretended to be.
As soon as the lights were on and the drapes lifted,
our audience watched our reactions to each other.
A month after this stint, I got sick and had to lose my role to another woman.
The others had to keep being who they are,
while the other woman became me.
25.
He was in the middle of sleep when I walked into his room.
One pillow was under his head,
while another was tossed on the floor.
The pillow was small and fluffy.
It was white with smear marks.
Small pink streaks.
Upon close inspection, I found it to be lipstick.
Not my shade.
Being his girlfriend,
it angered me to find some stranger's lipstick there.
Holding the pillow in my hand, I walked over to him.
The gentle chest heaving, the gentle breaths, the sweet snoring & the sweet reclining posture.
I sat down next to him and watched for a few seconds.
Bending over, I sucked the last breath from his partially opened mouth.
He still slept.
I positioned the pillow
--lipstick side up--
and pushed it down.
Pillows can be fluffy, but they can also stifle.
POETRY, SECTION SIX
1.
My mouth wants more.
It's not satisfied with what it's been given.
It hasn't kissed you enough.
My hands want more.
They're not satisfied with what they've been given.
They haven't touched you enough.
My body wants more.
It's not satisfied with what it's been given.
It hasn't been close to you enough.
It's hard enough not to think about you with every inch of this body wanting satisfaction.
2.
Will I ever see you again?
These fantasies aren't enough anymore.
They don't satisfy like they used to.
They're like ... something. I can't put my finger on it.
Not chocolate and shagging.
Not anything of the sort.
Is there some way we could come into contact again?
Like a phone call, perhaps.
Oh, I don't know.
Somehow, some way, is there the slightest possibility?
I don t know where you are.
Whenever I think of you, I don't become hopeless in thought.
Is that odd?
You're my bright spot, yet I doubt you think of me the same way.
Go ahead
--Torture and torment me by doing (being the way) you are.
I don't think you're cold, rather warm on another level.
Will I ever see you again?
Will I?
(Huh?)
3.
Her silvery dress.
His sequin suit and bow-tie.
They do not match well.
4.
I touched your mouth the other day.
It was warm and soft.
It felt nice.
The day passed quickly with this activity.
(Did I mention that I didn't use my hands, but my own mouth?)
5.
I'm almost pleading.
You are everything I want.
Hold me close still.
6.
The lake of blue ice
frozen by winter weather
and land full of snow.
7.
Can I ask something?
It's only one thing to do.
And you can lie down.
8.
I've noticed something.
Everytime you come over & say hello, I am always writing.
I can't be that nervous.
I don't know...
Would you prefer if I became blatantly excited and high-pitched
in tone and blow my cover,
OR
Would you prefer that I stay calm?
Around you, my preference is
to act slightly a notch or
five below what I feel.
This composure lies.
Of course, we would have
done more if I wasn't this way.
9.
i've finally gotten the nerve.
i stood so near you, by
the piano.
you were by the white &
black ivory keys, while
i faced the other side.
the door was open, after
i tapped on the window and
walked in.
you were working on
your singing scoring, after
i caught you playing a few
keys.
i should have closed the
door as the other pianos were
being used.
i flipped through a book of
yours.
scales+musical notations
i don't understand.
i'm quite nervous around you.
my voice quivered and jumbled the words
that came out, until i got it right.
10.
I am almost afraid to admit this.
I really want to kiss you,
but not by being clever or sly
or manipulative.
I just want a kiss.
A passionate, moisturey one.
11.
I was sitting in a parking lot
when something reminded me
of you.
The brown version of that car
of yours drove by on the street.
I don't know why that reminded
me of you.
It hasn't stopped me from my
fantasizing.
I don't believe we've finished.
At least, for now.
Everything we've ever done
has still some more kinks
to be straightened.
I miss every inch of you.
The hirsute, the eye
color changes, your redness, etc.
You were my six foot one, furry,
red-haired, teddy-bearesque,
chain smoking drunk.
12.
Someone told you that they saw me
there.
I was the one who wore
the white pleated skirt
and a yellow sleeveless fuzzy shirt.
I was the one who
went bare feet and bareheaded.
Flirting my way through the
various crowds, I acted badly.
I was the one who
seduced every man in sight,
blatantly and aggressively.
I was the one who
pissed off every girlfriend there.
Every eye was on me
while the words flowed out.
I was the one who
had everyone watching my every move--
Some were not impressed, Although
I was the one who
found my charms work for me.
That night, I was the one who went home alone.
13.
Why do I dream about you?
I really don't know.
I just wish they were not dreams.
My mouth wants more.
It's not satisfied with what it's been given.
It hasn't kissed you enough.
My hands want more.
They're not satisfied with what they've been given.
They haven't touched you enough.
My body wants more.
It's not satisfied with what it's been given.
It hasn't been close to you enough.
It's hard enough not to think about you with every inch of this body wanting satisfaction.
2.
Will I ever see you again?
These fantasies aren't enough anymore.
They don't satisfy like they used to.
They're like ... something. I can't put my finger on it.
Not chocolate and shagging.
Not anything of the sort.
Is there some way we could come into contact again?
Like a phone call, perhaps.
Oh, I don't know.
Somehow, some way, is there the slightest possibility?
I don t know where you are.
Whenever I think of you, I don't become hopeless in thought.
Is that odd?
You're my bright spot, yet I doubt you think of me the same way.
Go ahead
--Torture and torment me by doing (being the way) you are.
I don't think you're cold, rather warm on another level.
Will I ever see you again?
Will I?
(Huh?)
3.
Her silvery dress.
His sequin suit and bow-tie.
They do not match well.
4.
I touched your mouth the other day.
It was warm and soft.
It felt nice.
The day passed quickly with this activity.
(Did I mention that I didn't use my hands, but my own mouth?)
5.
I'm almost pleading.
You are everything I want.
Hold me close still.
6.
The lake of blue ice
frozen by winter weather
and land full of snow.
7.
Can I ask something?
It's only one thing to do.
And you can lie down.
8.
I've noticed something.
Everytime you come over & say hello, I am always writing.
I can't be that nervous.
I don't know...
Would you prefer if I became blatantly excited and high-pitched
in tone and blow my cover,
OR
Would you prefer that I stay calm?
Around you, my preference is
to act slightly a notch or
five below what I feel.
This composure lies.
Of course, we would have
done more if I wasn't this way.
9.
i've finally gotten the nerve.
i stood so near you, by
the piano.
you were by the white &
black ivory keys, while
i faced the other side.
the door was open, after
i tapped on the window and
walked in.
you were working on
your singing scoring, after
i caught you playing a few
keys.
i should have closed the
door as the other pianos were
being used.
i flipped through a book of
yours.
scales+musical notations
i don't understand.
i'm quite nervous around you.
my voice quivered and jumbled the words
that came out, until i got it right.
10.
I am almost afraid to admit this.
I really want to kiss you,
but not by being clever or sly
or manipulative.
I just want a kiss.
A passionate, moisturey one.
11.
I was sitting in a parking lot
when something reminded me
of you.
The brown version of that car
of yours drove by on the street.
I don't know why that reminded
me of you.
It hasn't stopped me from my
fantasizing.
I don't believe we've finished.
At least, for now.
Everything we've ever done
has still some more kinks
to be straightened.
I miss every inch of you.
The hirsute, the eye
color changes, your redness, etc.
You were my six foot one, furry,
red-haired, teddy-bearesque,
chain smoking drunk.
12.
Someone told you that they saw me
there.
I was the one who wore
the white pleated skirt
and a yellow sleeveless fuzzy shirt.
I was the one who
went bare feet and bareheaded.
Flirting my way through the
various crowds, I acted badly.
I was the one who
seduced every man in sight,
blatantly and aggressively.
I was the one who
pissed off every girlfriend there.
Every eye was on me
while the words flowed out.
I was the one who
had everyone watching my every move--
Some were not impressed, Although
I was the one who
found my charms work for me.
That night, I was the one who went home alone.
13.
Why do I dream about you?
I really don't know.
I just wish they were not dreams.
POETRY, SECTION FIVE
1.
Why am I always accused of being younger than I am?
It's completely frustrating.
Being asked about high school life.
Being asked for i.d. when purchasing cigarettes.
Being asked stupid questions about things I don't care for.
People look at me and subtract years.
The only good thing about this is everyone
automatically assumes
I'm innocent in words and deeds.
I'm an angelic little cherub.
It's not entirely true,
but not entirely false.
I know I have no wrinkles or aging to my face,
because I'm too young to own any.
Maybe if I smoke a lot
more than I have been
and get a darker tan,
then I can age myself!
I'm sure there's some way I could
avoid all this unusual abuse.
2.
I got a bit carried away yesterday.
It involved you and I, plus props.
We had almost circled that lake,
when you had to go to the bathroom.
At this place nearby,
we stopped and somehow went from
talking to kissing.
I stopped you and pulled a chair around
and sat down.
Mid-kiss, I took out my retainers and
put them next to my glasses.
I stopped you again
so we could switch over.
Your pants were already undone,
so it was obvious I was planning to do it.
And, that's why I feel I
got carried away,
because I did.
3.
I'd like to tell you something.
You make me feel warm and fuzzy all over
and I quite like it this way.
All your kisses, hugs, and words
leave me happy and nothing can replace
what you do to me.
I'm ashamed to have to admit I have
one problem with you.
It's quite bad, actually.
My problem with you is that
you haven't found the opportunity
to let ourselves become lose in desire.
I promise I won't disappoint.
I promise you anything.
Please, please, please.
Just help me fix my problem with you.
4.
I've dropped my eyes down,
because I don't want to look.
It's there in front, but I refuse to see.
It will only make things worse.
I'm going to let it display itself all it wants,
but I won't acknowledge it.
It's in my way, and that's not good.
Why can't things that tend to show up
make me feel better?
I was happy, but something's blocking the way.
5.
I.
You're such a good actor.
The performance was real.
But, you have forgotten certain rules.
Rule number one:
Always remember never to confuse acting and real life.
You should have stopped sooner when
you realised you couldn't understand
which was which.
Rule number two:
Regardless of what you say or do or fake, you are responsible for NOT blaming everything on them.
If one thing goes wrong, it could be worked into the plot.
Rule number three:
There is no such thing as spontaneous.
Love scenes, especially.
No amount of moments where they're scripted on paper,
they're usually scripted in your mind.
Nothing is ever created without thinking thoroughly about it.
Nothing.
Now that you've been told the rules,
You should begin to acknowledge them.
II.
My acting skills are becoming better.
I've done a better job.
My performance was superb.
I've convinced everyone that I
felt beautiful, loved, wanted, and etc.
I did my role well.
I kept my hidden self hidden
and my public self public.
I wasn't truly happy.
I pretended to be, though/
I was driven and determined to keep
everything as they were,
but none of the other characters permitted it to be so.
Well, I could go on about how much more
talent I have, but it's boring to keep repeating.
6.
On this piece of paper, I will gain revenge.
You're not safe from my pencil.
Matter of fact, it's laughing as I speak.
Sweet, sweet the venom from my hand flows.
You are ugly!
You are unforgiving!
You are unable to last!
Quick to probe, but not quick to realise
how worthless everything you
do, say, wear...is UTTER CRAP.
Everything you ever did in my eyes and heart
and soul was real and based in love.
I, alongside, have been completely blinded.
But, my pencil knows otherwise.
7.
My body aches with tension.
Had no more than three hours of sleep.
Couldn't sleep.
Can't sleep.
My body refuses to let me.
Feel strange.
Feel weird.
Need someone here to soothe me.
Massage my back or
make love to me or
something.
My body feels like there are knots
and they need to be untied.
Could scream.
Maybe that will help.
No, I doubt anything will.
8.
I'm quite disappointed.
You could have done better.
She's beautiful, but
controlling,
a bitch,
very manipulative,
and more.
I'm very sorry.
All I can do it laugh.
You could have done better.
Beautiful in some ways,
but otherwise worse.
I'm very sorry.
9.
I know how it feels to love blindly.
Thoughts muddled.
Feelings hidden.
Unable to be true.
All things nobody realises.
True love is being free.
False love is lust+like+feelings.
One of these is wrong
and it makes a fool of oneself
to the end.
Only at the end will people know.
Not until then.
Poor are the people
who let themselves become so
carried away,
only to be disappointed and unhappy.
10.
Your kisses seem to delve deeper than my mouth.
I feel them within every inch of my body.
My tongue tastes,
but everything else tingles.
You hands journey over
and reinforce what your kisses do.
I am heated with all you ever bring.
My flesh aches at the thought of being
kissed by you.
Everytime I do think about it,
I start wanting another.
Why am I always accused of being younger than I am?
It's completely frustrating.
Being asked about high school life.
Being asked for i.d. when purchasing cigarettes.
Being asked stupid questions about things I don't care for.
People look at me and subtract years.
The only good thing about this is everyone
automatically assumes
I'm innocent in words and deeds.
I'm an angelic little cherub.
It's not entirely true,
but not entirely false.
I know I have no wrinkles or aging to my face,
because I'm too young to own any.
Maybe if I smoke a lot
more than I have been
and get a darker tan,
then I can age myself!
I'm sure there's some way I could
avoid all this unusual abuse.
2.
I got a bit carried away yesterday.
It involved you and I, plus props.
We had almost circled that lake,
when you had to go to the bathroom.
At this place nearby,
we stopped and somehow went from
talking to kissing.
I stopped you and pulled a chair around
and sat down.
Mid-kiss, I took out my retainers and
put them next to my glasses.
I stopped you again
so we could switch over.
Your pants were already undone,
so it was obvious I was planning to do it.
And, that's why I feel I
got carried away,
because I did.
3.
I'd like to tell you something.
You make me feel warm and fuzzy all over
and I quite like it this way.
All your kisses, hugs, and words
leave me happy and nothing can replace
what you do to me.
I'm ashamed to have to admit I have
one problem with you.
It's quite bad, actually.
My problem with you is that
you haven't found the opportunity
to let ourselves become lose in desire.
I promise I won't disappoint.
I promise you anything.
Please, please, please.
Just help me fix my problem with you.
4.
I've dropped my eyes down,
because I don't want to look.
It's there in front, but I refuse to see.
It will only make things worse.
I'm going to let it display itself all it wants,
but I won't acknowledge it.
It's in my way, and that's not good.
Why can't things that tend to show up
make me feel better?
I was happy, but something's blocking the way.
5.
I.
You're such a good actor.
The performance was real.
But, you have forgotten certain rules.
Rule number one:
Always remember never to confuse acting and real life.
You should have stopped sooner when
you realised you couldn't understand
which was which.
Rule number two:
Regardless of what you say or do or fake, you are responsible for NOT blaming everything on them.
If one thing goes wrong, it could be worked into the plot.
Rule number three:
There is no such thing as spontaneous.
Love scenes, especially.
No amount of moments where they're scripted on paper,
they're usually scripted in your mind.
Nothing is ever created without thinking thoroughly about it.
Nothing.
Now that you've been told the rules,
You should begin to acknowledge them.
II.
My acting skills are becoming better.
I've done a better job.
My performance was superb.
I've convinced everyone that I
felt beautiful, loved, wanted, and etc.
I did my role well.
I kept my hidden self hidden
and my public self public.
I wasn't truly happy.
I pretended to be, though/
I was driven and determined to keep
everything as they were,
but none of the other characters permitted it to be so.
Well, I could go on about how much more
talent I have, but it's boring to keep repeating.
6.
On this piece of paper, I will gain revenge.
You're not safe from my pencil.
Matter of fact, it's laughing as I speak.
Sweet, sweet the venom from my hand flows.
You are ugly!
You are unforgiving!
You are unable to last!
Quick to probe, but not quick to realise
how worthless everything you
do, say, wear...is UTTER CRAP.
Everything you ever did in my eyes and heart
and soul was real and based in love.
I, alongside, have been completely blinded.
But, my pencil knows otherwise.
7.
My body aches with tension.
Had no more than three hours of sleep.
Couldn't sleep.
Can't sleep.
My body refuses to let me.
Feel strange.
Feel weird.
Need someone here to soothe me.
Massage my back or
make love to me or
something.
My body feels like there are knots
and they need to be untied.
Could scream.
Maybe that will help.
No, I doubt anything will.
8.
I'm quite disappointed.
You could have done better.
She's beautiful, but
controlling,
a bitch,
very manipulative,
and more.
I'm very sorry.
All I can do it laugh.
You could have done better.
Beautiful in some ways,
but otherwise worse.
I'm very sorry.
9.
I know how it feels to love blindly.
Thoughts muddled.
Feelings hidden.
Unable to be true.
All things nobody realises.
True love is being free.
False love is lust+like+feelings.
One of these is wrong
and it makes a fool of oneself
to the end.
Only at the end will people know.
Not until then.
Poor are the people
who let themselves become so
carried away,
only to be disappointed and unhappy.
10.
Your kisses seem to delve deeper than my mouth.
I feel them within every inch of my body.
My tongue tastes,
but everything else tingles.
You hands journey over
and reinforce what your kisses do.
I am heated with all you ever bring.
My flesh aches at the thought of being
kissed by you.
Everytime I do think about it,
I start wanting another.
POETRY, SECTION FOUR
1.
I need some sort of closure.
A total way of saying, "Goodbye."
A final kiss won't do the trick,
because it will only make me
want you more.
I don't want that.
I don't know what I want.
I don't feel we really
said what we needed.
There are still things left in the air,
which remain in that car.
That car where it started
and where we ended.
I hope you get in an accident
and it becomes badly damaged.
I still think about you
constantly, but I'm
trying to break away
from the thing I feel
is imprisoning me
against my will.
The only thing that
will set me free is that
complete break.
2.
I feel guilty about that night.
On the floor of my brother
and sister-in-law's home,
a vampire assistant and a hippie
rolled about in front of the tv,
where useless images
displayed themselves on screen.
The protection used was
our underwear.
His tongue a roaming
little monster and his
teeth hit against mine.
They didn't quite hit
the right areas.
Same with his hands.
It's odd how the
assistant left marks
on the hippie.
On the neck,
there were made.
Only not with two spots,
but more.
The assistant wasn't
trying to sneak life
from the hippie,
but was close enough.
3.
Is there someone in
the world who I'm
mentally connected
to?
Half my thoughts don't
seem to make
rational sense.
Out of nowhere,
they pop into my head.
Half my thoughts are
mine through my
experiences and senses.
That I know about.
The other half drift
into my conscience
from somewhere else.
That I don't know about.
Someone out there has
the key to my lock.
They know my half,
along with theirs
--which is my problem in reverse.
I'm only hoping, then,
that I'm not stealing
something more
important to them
--rather than myself.
I'm sorry if I am.
4.
She loves him still, but
wants to show her love
differently.
She desires to express
her love with a gentle kiss
and a harsh slap.
He left her for a
questionable reason,
which he only can
understand.
He desired more than
what he received,
which was very unfortunate.
She wants him back
desperately, but
doesn't know if he feels the same.
He wandered out of
her life just as fast as
he wandered in.
Maybe, they still love
each other now
and always.
It's sad how they didn't exist
for long together.
5.
Any second now,
I'll start crying.
My head has been
poisoned with others' ideas.
The pressure wants to
explode in a violent manner.
All these different people are
trying to make me think these
ideas that have slowly destroyed some
of my beliefs.
Add this to my ever-
evolving problem with
a certain someone
and you should be able to
understand why I feel this way.
Actually, that someone
is who I'm blaming all
the junk that happens.
Yes, it is all his fault.
Everything.
6.
I was once a
beautiful and nice girl
in your eyes.
Now you see before
you an ugly and mean woman.
Couldn't you see me
clearly before?
Couldn't you tell I'd be
like the rest?
Loves blinds everyone
in its way.
It does such mean
things to people.
Once held in your arms,
I was the most precious thing you had.
Now you look at me
like I'm worthless and
of no great value.
I've been thrown out
like the rest of your
useless playthings.
7.
Now, that I've given the letter,
I can now spend my time
moving on with my life.
I was tired of bottling
all the things that
needed to be made clear.
I thought I'd be safe
with keeping
everything inside,
but I was wrong.
I was wrong about everything,
all the lies,
all the trust,
all the love.
I thought I knew what
I was doing, but how
was I supposed to know
that it was what
needed to be done?
Which brings me back
to where it started.
The letter was
what I had to do.
8.
I was kneeling before you,
while you sat on the bed.
One hand rested on one thigh,
and the other
on the bed
behind you, grasping.
Your thighs were separated.
My mouth tasted what
you have that I don't.
I looked at you and
your eyes couldn't stay open.
They'd open, then
close back up just as fast.
Your head sloped back
--at least, from where I was.
Soft little moans came from you
now and then.
My tongue rubbed all over you.
I like the taste of what
I had in my mouth.
It turned me on.
Especially when you came in my mouth.
9.
I've realised nothing
really matters that much anymore.
Everything that once
meant something to me
is useless from now on.
I had resources that I
could use up over and over again.
It doesn't apply to anywhere in my life now.
Dreading the worst possible scenarios
have become more frequent,
but the end results have become less pleasant.
Nothing is what I want it to be,
and I'm getting tired of it all.
The sooner I get over this,
the sooner everything will be all right.
10.
They say with every breakup, you learn something:
1. never leave it open-ended
2. like the person you're with
3. don't do something you'll regret later
4. there's something wrong when two people can't emotionally satisfy each other
5. not liking the situation means change it
6. desperation does ugly things
7a. give someone their room
7b. don't be too controlling
8. if someone feels pressured, then they do what they don't want
9. [ ...]
7c. (space had been spread, and then another go at it) The third time is not the charm, sometimes
All good lessons learned that I should apply to all my next relationships.
Antonio, Tom, Charlie, Cameron, Chris, Bob, Geoff, John and Aaron.
To you, you've all let me change in some way.
11.
I believe that cliche,
"What doesn't kill you,
will make you stronger".
Actually, no, I don't believe
it to be entirely true.
Depending on what it is,
things will bring you down.
I guess I'm being pessimistic,
but sometimes something
may kill you, because
people die
emotionally, physically, or any other way.
12.
I made a bad mistake this day.
Calling at a really awful time.
It was funny, though.
I'm not jealous or anything.
You were in the middle of the ACT!
It was funny, though.
I turned red and became embarrassed.
I heard her voice asking, who it was.
It was funny, though.
I didn't mean to disturb you,
while you were enjoying someone else.
It was funny, though.
You were out of it,
because you were in
the middle of seducing
or being seduced.
It was funny and I
laughed almost to the point of crying.
13.
People see what they want.
Simple how that logic works.
The principle is basic,
but the application is difficult.
How can people tell if
they're agreeing on the same thing?
I don't mean see,
unless what one does
is a painting,
but I mean perceive.
Meanings change from
person to person.
There isn't such a
thing as same.
Take, for example, any person walking this earth.
One can see their naivety.
Another can see their stubbornness.
Another can see their malleability.
Everyone sees something different.
The idea may attach
itself to one notion.
but be coded with
other significances.
Brilliant, as this one
thought can splinter
into many.
14.
Of what I can remember,
there's not much to say.
It started before I got there,
which wasn't good.
In-between that time and the end,
there was much going on.
People crowded half
the room and stood attentive.
My attention was split into all four directions:
north, south, east, west.
I would constantly be distracted
to turn a certain direction,
which wouldn't last for long.
There was someone behind me
having a one-sided conversation.
To my right, some stranger kept staring my way.
To my left, squirming around.
In front of me, my eyes beheld heaven.
15.
I wish I didn't let you
slip through my fingers.
Your sandiness upsets me.
I'm still convinced
you're the one for me.
(My stop watch has stopped counting the seconds.)
You were the little jewel
in my favorite necklace
that I managed to lose.
Regretfully, I think
about how I could have
been more careful and watchful.
I still find myself
blaming all my faults
on losing you.
16.
The one thing that
would made me
happy can never happen.
Someone stole him away from me.
It wouldn't have hurt so much
if I wasn't still in love with him.
I try to distance myself
from my feelings,
but I can't.
I refuse to believe that
I still love him,
but I do.
It hurts so much that
he has a new girlfriend.
I'm only hoping that
she is the one to throw him back.
17.
It echoed all the muffled sounds
it made from its fountain-like
nature.
On the floor, it poured
out all the water it could.
Water spilled out of its spout,
and with continuous motion.
Down, down, down, down.
The statue lay perfectly still
while the water was non-stop.
The little statue refused to move,
but was alive in some way.
It was frozen in features,
but had some lifelike quality.
The little statue's features
were of a young woman crying.
The water were the tears
that came from her face.
It was my face, my statue, my tears, my water.
I'm the fountain.
18.
I refuse to believe that my strength
won't carry me over to my
next point of happiness.
I will become stronger
by the end of all this.
I have the willpower
to sustain any blow.
Life throws me
curveballs to make me
realise what I need to change.
What goes down, must spring back up.
I am not a weak, insipid girl,
because this is what I have to do to evolve.
I will change
and there's nothing I can do about it.
19.
It drives me crazy to think
that someone else is repeating
the patterns I've established.
He used to take me in that car
to his house.
I know what is being done.
He waits, then picks you up.
He takes you to his grandmother's house.
Oh, no.
First, the mountains,
where he'll tease you with his tongue.
Then, comes his home,
during the hour.
Well, it's the couch,
the floor, or his bed.
You have no choice.
I'm to warn you, for
you might fall into the
same trap of becoming
blinded by lust and love.
I don't want you to be hurt
in the same way I have.
If you are,
then we'll bond together and
hurt him back.
20.
In forty-eight hours,
the strangest things can
happen ever so quickly.
Sleep usually would
take six to eight hours a day,
times two, it equals half a day
--or a half plus four.
What to do with the rest?
Let's see.
The ideal forty-eight hours would go:
forty-eight minus sixteen (for sleep)
equal thirty-two.
Thirty-two minus three hours (for sex)
equals twenty-nine.
Minus an hour (for each time a trip to the bathroom).
Minus another three for the eating.
Minus another three for the phone.
Minus another six hours for television.
The remaining eighteen hours could
be spent on any number of things.
Well, maybe not three hours for sex.
21.
I'm confused about something.
Are you still interested,
or was my friend wrong?
I called your house today.
Your grandmother answered
saying, "You got the wrong number"
then hung up.
Please, tell me the truth.
I got thrown off, since
last seeing you drive by,
and look rather happy,
while waving to me or the other person.
I could have sworn, my friend told me
the words you both exchanged
--the day before she told me.
She swore she wasn't lying,
and I believe her.
I wish my confusion
would be cleared up,
because it's not fair to
be kept wondering.
22.
Do you see that person over there?
Yes, the one with red hair and eyeglasses.
He used to love me.
I still love him and
find it so hard to let go.
There must be some
way to reach my goal.
There has to be a way.
As for now,
You name it,
I've done it.
I've thrown myself
into situations,
not including him.
It leads me nowhere.
I wish relationships that end
automatically released
the ex-lovers from the spell
they were both under.
It's not fun being in
love with someone
who has stopped loving me.
23.
Less than a week ago,
I had no idea what to write about.
I was sitting there
with someone else in the room.
Asking him what to write of,
he smiled and said
that I should write about where we were.
We were in the women's resource centre.
I felt comfortable and relaxed,
but tense since I didn't know what to feel.
A slight contradiction
of where I was.
Feminist propaganda
and blatant tools of male-bashing,
mixed with a fair-headed male
doesn't seem quite right.
I guess it's reasonable.
It was just bizarre how
a male so calm and quiet
could just sit
unpretentiously
with his laptop amidst all this.
24.
Where is this so-called
dark and mysterious quality of mine?
I can't find it in the mirror.
Everytime I look in the
silver-painted piece of glass,
I try to find out what others
can see.
I can't seem to step outside
of what I think
of myself
long enough to understand
how others perceive me to be.
All I see is the mirror
is someone who's
brunette, sometimes a wearer of glasses
and has been through emotional hell.
The mirror doesn't
show me how other people I encounter
think of me,
but what I see in reverse.
Why is that?
25.
Must I be forced to go through this again?
I know things come back to people,
but this is insane.
The first time, I was wrong.
This time, I don't know.
The message I'm getting is so clear
that I can't turn away.
It's not funny
--Or, as that quote goes
"that joke isn't funny anymore".
I feel this roller coaster
has granted me a free ride.
Now that I'm starting
all over again,
what the hell am I going to do?
If I can't get through it the first time,
how the hell can I get through it
the second time?
It's all your fault,
you pulled me in.
26.
I was watching a candle burning last night.
It was slowly making it to the bottom.
Then, while staring at it, I started crying.
I was thinking of you.
I don't know how that
candle relates to you,
but it made me think long and hard.
Candles don't last forever,
but they do stick around for some time.
Also, fire is only good when it's fed and kept alive.
I took this as a sign
that this could be us.
27.
What does it feel like?
Unless you've experienced it first-hand,
it's quite hard to explain.
I guess I'll have to do my best.
Before anything happens,
you have to make sure
you want to go through with it.
Nothing is worse than
doing something you
feel is not right.
From personal experience,
I've always felt giddy and
anxious before any clothing is shed.
The moment the first piece of clothing
is taken off, it's too late to back out.
That moment will last
as long as both of you make it.
Up until the last bit of clothing is off,
a certain excitement occurs.
Some start making love in-between
the first and last removal of clothing.
That's the norm.
From personal experience,
I've always stolen kisses
before anything happens
--which is usually how it starts.
The actual act is something
that is only as good as both
people cause it to be.
Depending on the involvement
of the people involved in this
strangely complex process,
they won't be surprised to
know each time it gets better.
I hope that helped in a way.
It's odd to try to
explain something like this.
As I've said before,
unless it's experienced beforehand,
I can't really say what happens.
Why don't you go and find out?
28.
I'm exhausted from the wait.
I just want it over with.
The day you fall in love with someone else
--that's what I'm expecting.
Everything I've ever done with you
will reflect backwards
what happened last.
The big slap in the face,
or however you look at it.
However you look at it, I lose.
Last time, I left the other for you.
This time, you leave me for the other.
I know the whole relationship.
Repetition can be so evil.
Especially in an instance like this.
I don't know how I'll react when it does,
but it will.
Whatever we have, it was doomed
from the start to become an
enclosure to the circle I began.
29.
You had a bit too much to drink that one night.
We were at this party.
I was in the bathroom,
cleaning my dress off,
after I spilled on it.
Halfway through smearing soap on it,
you came in and locked the door.
I was ignoring you, when you came over
and rubbed my exposed thighs.
You undid my hair and
sent it tumbling down my face and shoulders.
I was annoyed and surprised at such a
blatant invitation of love-making.
Your tongue found its way to my mouth.
I tasted the wine on your lips.
I never got around to rinsing off the soap.
I'm sure you remember that part.
30.
There's good qualities about being quiet.
First of all, you don't say much.
No endless and useless talking about petty subjects.
No having to explain yourself again and again and again and again.
No questions about this or that.
None of that.
Second, people assume everything of you.
Sure, some may think you are an idiot,
but most think otherwise.
It's funny to find out what character
traits people assume from silence.
Tough, shy, deep, etc.
All of us quiet people know we're
None of that.
31.
At whatever time this day last year,
I met a certain someone for the second time.
The second time of the
--so far--
three times.
I thought it odd how I could run into him again.
A similar environment,
but not the same.
Different sections, too.
Again, he was too forward and
had a problem with letting go of my hand.
Again, I felt he was a little too much.
I'm hoping there will be no more run-ins
like then, or the third
--or, even the first.
I don't like running into Psycho boy.
32.
My hair length is bothering me.
What's the point of long hair, anyways?
Sure, it could be used as a weapon
to attract some men, but really though,
what purpose does it serve?
I could understand if it was cold,
but I live in California,
where it's mostly warm and sunny.
Even then, hats serve the purpose
of keeping a skull warm.
Long dark hair does
nothing for me,
but get in the way.
I'm not saying I don't like my hair--
But, it doesn't really have a purpose there.
It just doesn't.
33.
Across the railroad tracks,
I used to clutch your hands for
fear of falling.
I'd stand opposite you,
watching with you for the train to come.
It felt like forever
with our hands intertwined.
When the train came, I let go.
I fell back onto the dirt.
My hands became empty,
but still sweaty from the contact.
I stopped laughing,
before the pain set in.
The train finished passing,
when I stood up.
You had disappeared
into thin air.
I was confused and wondering what happened,
but couldn't do anything.
Since then, I've brushed myself off and
walked away.
34.
I've had my time to think.
Since you've said, "Goodbye,"
I pondered what I think of you.
When you said what I heard you say,
I felt shock.
I wasn't sad you've left me the way you did,
because I wanted you gone.
I'll miss your drunken confessions of love,
but that's about it.
Then again, I'd call you up when I was
feeling lonely and you'd fill me with cheer.
I never saw you much after I escaped
from the hell we both didn't like.
The few times you made the effort to see me,
you always wanted to be satisfied passionately.
About three years or so down the drain,
because you're gone now.
Now, it's my turn to say it.
"Goodbye."
35.
She sat near you on the couch.
Hurting her index finger,
she put it in her mouth.
I watched you look at her.
You had a strange look on your face,
as she looked back.
She was beaming innocence.
You perverted its message.
I could only imagine
what was going on in your mind,
you sick individual.
Especially,
when you took her finger out and kissed it.
She took her hand away and
promptly slapped you squarely in the face.
36.
I laid next to you.
The sheets were white cotton
and they molded around our bodies.
The temptations was
strong to smooth away
the wrinkles your body was causing,
but I didn't.
The only thing above the sheets were my
arm and hand
while everything else was
beneath the sheets.
You warmed me quite thoroughly
and I returned the favor.
That's all that was important.
37.
I painted my toenails yesterday.
The colour is called "Lemon Twist".
When I turned them this shade of yellow,
the light I was using didn't show
the way it would look naturally.
So, I painted them twice.
They are vibrant
--as much as one could expect--
in real light.
My ten little toes look happy,
but I'm not satisfied with Lemon.
I want them Lime.
With sparkles or glitter wouldn't hurt.
38.
Up until now,
I've done normal things normal people do.
I've carried around an ashtray and used it.
I've written an eight page letter to an ex-lover
after we broke up.
I've dyed my hair without bleaching it first.
I've made out in the front seats of a car.
I've watched people come and go.
I've made a redhead blush on several occasions.
I've propositioned men in the most normal ways.
I've had my right foot bit a couple of times.
I've sucked my thumb until the age of nine.
I've had to choose between a cigarette and a kiss.
I've done...so much more than this.
39.
I've bought you a present.
It's a really naughty gift.
It wasn't originally what I planned to get.
What I originally planned to get was
the funniest thing ever to have and own.
Anyways, I was roaming a store that sells
sexual paraphernalia.
You should of been there,
because it would have stopped my purchase.
The ordeal was quite naughty,
and I'm guilty of it all.
I bought you a present.
It's a really naughty gift.
It wasn't originally what I planned to get.
I originally planned to get you a
pair of orange-with-black-stripes-furred handcuffs,
but I opted for a condom/ruler.
The funny thing is the guy who rang up
my purchase swears
I'm going to use it on my (fictititious) lover,
when it was intended for your use.
40.
The candle gave off
enough light allowing me to see you.
We were together in my room
talking and laughing quietly.
It was some late night.
I was looking at you.
The light made me feel strange.
You eyes seemed shinier and
your whispering filled my ears,
but I couldn't understand why
I was feeling the way I was.
I already knew I had
developed this crush on you,
but I was ashamed of wanting to admit it.
I didn't know what came over me,
but I couldn't resist.
I looked away,
because if I looked into your eyes,
I would have revealed myself.
I didn't want to give myself away,
because I know I shouldn't have felt that way.
41.
I think I've finally done it.
I've finally gotten over you.
I can move on.
All right, I'm lying.
I can't get over you.
The strength of my love
is still too strong.
I'm slowly sinking in this
half-empty space.
My heart is dying with me
and it's no fun.
I'm not even going to see you again.
Thanks a lot for making me convinced
you're lovable, when I know it
shouldn't be true
--on my part, at least.
I should be over you, but I'm not.
42.
I'm standing in the rain
hoping everything will wash away.
I want a complete break from it all.
I want my soul cleansed.
I know I'll become pure and innocent
from the rain.
The water will make me good again.
I want to be good again.
Everything will become untainted
and I will have a new start.
I can't take it any longer,
since I know a renewal is having hope.
To be pristine is my one wish,
but I can't stop being dirty.
I'm going to be soiled for the rest of my life.
I can't change, even with this rain.
I need some sort of closure.
A total way of saying, "Goodbye."
A final kiss won't do the trick,
because it will only make me
want you more.
I don't want that.
I don't know what I want.
I don't feel we really
said what we needed.
There are still things left in the air,
which remain in that car.
That car where it started
and where we ended.
I hope you get in an accident
and it becomes badly damaged.
I still think about you
constantly, but I'm
trying to break away
from the thing I feel
is imprisoning me
against my will.
The only thing that
will set me free is that
complete break.
2.
I feel guilty about that night.
On the floor of my brother
and sister-in-law's home,
a vampire assistant and a hippie
rolled about in front of the tv,
where useless images
displayed themselves on screen.
The protection used was
our underwear.
His tongue a roaming
little monster and his
teeth hit against mine.
They didn't quite hit
the right areas.
Same with his hands.
It's odd how the
assistant left marks
on the hippie.
On the neck,
there were made.
Only not with two spots,
but more.
The assistant wasn't
trying to sneak life
from the hippie,
but was close enough.
3.
Is there someone in
the world who I'm
mentally connected
to?
Half my thoughts don't
seem to make
rational sense.
Out of nowhere,
they pop into my head.
Half my thoughts are
mine through my
experiences and senses.
That I know about.
The other half drift
into my conscience
from somewhere else.
That I don't know about.
Someone out there has
the key to my lock.
They know my half,
along with theirs
--which is my problem in reverse.
I'm only hoping, then,
that I'm not stealing
something more
important to them
--rather than myself.
I'm sorry if I am.
4.
She loves him still, but
wants to show her love
differently.
She desires to express
her love with a gentle kiss
and a harsh slap.
He left her for a
questionable reason,
which he only can
understand.
He desired more than
what he received,
which was very unfortunate.
She wants him back
desperately, but
doesn't know if he feels the same.
He wandered out of
her life just as fast as
he wandered in.
Maybe, they still love
each other now
and always.
It's sad how they didn't exist
for long together.
5.
Any second now,
I'll start crying.
My head has been
poisoned with others' ideas.
The pressure wants to
explode in a violent manner.
All these different people are
trying to make me think these
ideas that have slowly destroyed some
of my beliefs.
Add this to my ever-
evolving problem with
a certain someone
and you should be able to
understand why I feel this way.
Actually, that someone
is who I'm blaming all
the junk that happens.
Yes, it is all his fault.
Everything.
6.
I was once a
beautiful and nice girl
in your eyes.
Now you see before
you an ugly and mean woman.
Couldn't you see me
clearly before?
Couldn't you tell I'd be
like the rest?
Loves blinds everyone
in its way.
It does such mean
things to people.
Once held in your arms,
I was the most precious thing you had.
Now you look at me
like I'm worthless and
of no great value.
I've been thrown out
like the rest of your
useless playthings.
7.
Now, that I've given the letter,
I can now spend my time
moving on with my life.
I was tired of bottling
all the things that
needed to be made clear.
I thought I'd be safe
with keeping
everything inside,
but I was wrong.
I was wrong about everything,
all the lies,
all the trust,
all the love.
I thought I knew what
I was doing, but how
was I supposed to know
that it was what
needed to be done?
Which brings me back
to where it started.
The letter was
what I had to do.
8.
I was kneeling before you,
while you sat on the bed.
One hand rested on one thigh,
and the other
on the bed
behind you, grasping.
Your thighs were separated.
My mouth tasted what
you have that I don't.
I looked at you and
your eyes couldn't stay open.
They'd open, then
close back up just as fast.
Your head sloped back
--at least, from where I was.
Soft little moans came from you
now and then.
My tongue rubbed all over you.
I like the taste of what
I had in my mouth.
It turned me on.
Especially when you came in my mouth.
9.
I've realised nothing
really matters that much anymore.
Everything that once
meant something to me
is useless from now on.
I had resources that I
could use up over and over again.
It doesn't apply to anywhere in my life now.
Dreading the worst possible scenarios
have become more frequent,
but the end results have become less pleasant.
Nothing is what I want it to be,
and I'm getting tired of it all.
The sooner I get over this,
the sooner everything will be all right.
10.
They say with every breakup, you learn something:
1. never leave it open-ended
2. like the person you're with
3. don't do something you'll regret later
4. there's something wrong when two people can't emotionally satisfy each other
5. not liking the situation means change it
6. desperation does ugly things
7a. give someone their room
7b. don't be too controlling
8. if someone feels pressured, then they do what they don't want
9. [ ...]
7c. (space had been spread, and then another go at it) The third time is not the charm, sometimes
All good lessons learned that I should apply to all my next relationships.
Antonio, Tom, Charlie, Cameron, Chris, Bob, Geoff, John and Aaron.
To you, you've all let me change in some way.
11.
I believe that cliche,
"What doesn't kill you,
will make you stronger".
Actually, no, I don't believe
it to be entirely true.
Depending on what it is,
things will bring you down.
I guess I'm being pessimistic,
but sometimes something
may kill you, because
people die
emotionally, physically, or any other way.
12.
I made a bad mistake this day.
Calling at a really awful time.
It was funny, though.
I'm not jealous or anything.
You were in the middle of the ACT!
It was funny, though.
I turned red and became embarrassed.
I heard her voice asking, who it was.
It was funny, though.
I didn't mean to disturb you,
while you were enjoying someone else.
It was funny, though.
You were out of it,
because you were in
the middle of seducing
or being seduced.
It was funny and I
laughed almost to the point of crying.
13.
People see what they want.
Simple how that logic works.
The principle is basic,
but the application is difficult.
How can people tell if
they're agreeing on the same thing?
I don't mean see,
unless what one does
is a painting,
but I mean perceive.
Meanings change from
person to person.
There isn't such a
thing as same.
Take, for example, any person walking this earth.
One can see their naivety.
Another can see their stubbornness.
Another can see their malleability.
Everyone sees something different.
The idea may attach
itself to one notion.
but be coded with
other significances.
Brilliant, as this one
thought can splinter
into many.
14.
Of what I can remember,
there's not much to say.
It started before I got there,
which wasn't good.
In-between that time and the end,
there was much going on.
People crowded half
the room and stood attentive.
My attention was split into all four directions:
north, south, east, west.
I would constantly be distracted
to turn a certain direction,
which wouldn't last for long.
There was someone behind me
having a one-sided conversation.
To my right, some stranger kept staring my way.
To my left, squirming around.
In front of me, my eyes beheld heaven.
15.
I wish I didn't let you
slip through my fingers.
Your sandiness upsets me.
I'm still convinced
you're the one for me.
(My stop watch has stopped counting the seconds.)
You were the little jewel
in my favorite necklace
that I managed to lose.
Regretfully, I think
about how I could have
been more careful and watchful.
I still find myself
blaming all my faults
on losing you.
16.
The one thing that
would made me
happy can never happen.
Someone stole him away from me.
It wouldn't have hurt so much
if I wasn't still in love with him.
I try to distance myself
from my feelings,
but I can't.
I refuse to believe that
I still love him,
but I do.
It hurts so much that
he has a new girlfriend.
I'm only hoping that
she is the one to throw him back.
17.
It echoed all the muffled sounds
it made from its fountain-like
nature.
On the floor, it poured
out all the water it could.
Water spilled out of its spout,
and with continuous motion.
Down, down, down, down.
The statue lay perfectly still
while the water was non-stop.
The little statue refused to move,
but was alive in some way.
It was frozen in features,
but had some lifelike quality.
The little statue's features
were of a young woman crying.
The water were the tears
that came from her face.
It was my face, my statue, my tears, my water.
I'm the fountain.
18.
I refuse to believe that my strength
won't carry me over to my
next point of happiness.
I will become stronger
by the end of all this.
I have the willpower
to sustain any blow.
Life throws me
curveballs to make me
realise what I need to change.
What goes down, must spring back up.
I am not a weak, insipid girl,
because this is what I have to do to evolve.
I will change
and there's nothing I can do about it.
19.
It drives me crazy to think
that someone else is repeating
the patterns I've established.
He used to take me in that car
to his house.
I know what is being done.
He waits, then picks you up.
He takes you to his grandmother's house.
Oh, no.
First, the mountains,
where he'll tease you with his tongue.
Then, comes his home,
during the hour.
Well, it's the couch,
the floor, or his bed.
You have no choice.
I'm to warn you, for
you might fall into the
same trap of becoming
blinded by lust and love.
I don't want you to be hurt
in the same way I have.
If you are,
then we'll bond together and
hurt him back.
20.
In forty-eight hours,
the strangest things can
happen ever so quickly.
Sleep usually would
take six to eight hours a day,
times two, it equals half a day
--or a half plus four.
What to do with the rest?
Let's see.
The ideal forty-eight hours would go:
forty-eight minus sixteen (for sleep)
equal thirty-two.
Thirty-two minus three hours (for sex)
equals twenty-nine.
Minus an hour (for each time a trip to the bathroom).
Minus another three for the eating.
Minus another three for the phone.
Minus another six hours for television.
The remaining eighteen hours could
be spent on any number of things.
Well, maybe not three hours for sex.
21.
I'm confused about something.
Are you still interested,
or was my friend wrong?
I called your house today.
Your grandmother answered
saying, "You got the wrong number"
then hung up.
Please, tell me the truth.
I got thrown off, since
last seeing you drive by,
and look rather happy,
while waving to me or the other person.
I could have sworn, my friend told me
the words you both exchanged
--the day before she told me.
She swore she wasn't lying,
and I believe her.
I wish my confusion
would be cleared up,
because it's not fair to
be kept wondering.
22.
Do you see that person over there?
Yes, the one with red hair and eyeglasses.
He used to love me.
I still love him and
find it so hard to let go.
There must be some
way to reach my goal.
There has to be a way.
As for now,
You name it,
I've done it.
I've thrown myself
into situations,
not including him.
It leads me nowhere.
I wish relationships that end
automatically released
the ex-lovers from the spell
they were both under.
It's not fun being in
love with someone
who has stopped loving me.
23.
Less than a week ago,
I had no idea what to write about.
I was sitting there
with someone else in the room.
Asking him what to write of,
he smiled and said
that I should write about where we were.
We were in the women's resource centre.
I felt comfortable and relaxed,
but tense since I didn't know what to feel.
A slight contradiction
of where I was.
Feminist propaganda
and blatant tools of male-bashing,
mixed with a fair-headed male
doesn't seem quite right.
I guess it's reasonable.
It was just bizarre how
a male so calm and quiet
could just sit
unpretentiously
with his laptop amidst all this.
24.
Where is this so-called
dark and mysterious quality of mine?
I can't find it in the mirror.
Everytime I look in the
silver-painted piece of glass,
I try to find out what others
can see.
I can't seem to step outside
of what I think
of myself
long enough to understand
how others perceive me to be.
All I see is the mirror
is someone who's
brunette, sometimes a wearer of glasses
and has been through emotional hell.
The mirror doesn't
show me how other people I encounter
think of me,
but what I see in reverse.
Why is that?
25.
Must I be forced to go through this again?
I know things come back to people,
but this is insane.
The first time, I was wrong.
This time, I don't know.
The message I'm getting is so clear
that I can't turn away.
It's not funny
--Or, as that quote goes
"that joke isn't funny anymore".
I feel this roller coaster
has granted me a free ride.
Now that I'm starting
all over again,
what the hell am I going to do?
If I can't get through it the first time,
how the hell can I get through it
the second time?
It's all your fault,
you pulled me in.
26.
I was watching a candle burning last night.
It was slowly making it to the bottom.
Then, while staring at it, I started crying.
I was thinking of you.
I don't know how that
candle relates to you,
but it made me think long and hard.
Candles don't last forever,
but they do stick around for some time.
Also, fire is only good when it's fed and kept alive.
I took this as a sign
that this could be us.
27.
What does it feel like?
Unless you've experienced it first-hand,
it's quite hard to explain.
I guess I'll have to do my best.
Before anything happens,
you have to make sure
you want to go through with it.
Nothing is worse than
doing something you
feel is not right.
From personal experience,
I've always felt giddy and
anxious before any clothing is shed.
The moment the first piece of clothing
is taken off, it's too late to back out.
That moment will last
as long as both of you make it.
Up until the last bit of clothing is off,
a certain excitement occurs.
Some start making love in-between
the first and last removal of clothing.
That's the norm.
From personal experience,
I've always stolen kisses
before anything happens
--which is usually how it starts.
The actual act is something
that is only as good as both
people cause it to be.
Depending on the involvement
of the people involved in this
strangely complex process,
they won't be surprised to
know each time it gets better.
I hope that helped in a way.
It's odd to try to
explain something like this.
As I've said before,
unless it's experienced beforehand,
I can't really say what happens.
Why don't you go and find out?
28.
I'm exhausted from the wait.
I just want it over with.
The day you fall in love with someone else
--that's what I'm expecting.
Everything I've ever done with you
will reflect backwards
what happened last.
The big slap in the face,
or however you look at it.
However you look at it, I lose.
Last time, I left the other for you.
This time, you leave me for the other.
I know the whole relationship.
Repetition can be so evil.
Especially in an instance like this.
I don't know how I'll react when it does,
but it will.
Whatever we have, it was doomed
from the start to become an
enclosure to the circle I began.
29.
You had a bit too much to drink that one night.
We were at this party.
I was in the bathroom,
cleaning my dress off,
after I spilled on it.
Halfway through smearing soap on it,
you came in and locked the door.
I was ignoring you, when you came over
and rubbed my exposed thighs.
You undid my hair and
sent it tumbling down my face and shoulders.
I was annoyed and surprised at such a
blatant invitation of love-making.
Your tongue found its way to my mouth.
I tasted the wine on your lips.
I never got around to rinsing off the soap.
I'm sure you remember that part.
30.
There's good qualities about being quiet.
First of all, you don't say much.
No endless and useless talking about petty subjects.
No having to explain yourself again and again and again and again.
No questions about this or that.
None of that.
Second, people assume everything of you.
Sure, some may think you are an idiot,
but most think otherwise.
It's funny to find out what character
traits people assume from silence.
Tough, shy, deep, etc.
All of us quiet people know we're
None of that.
31.
At whatever time this day last year,
I met a certain someone for the second time.
The second time of the
--so far--
three times.
I thought it odd how I could run into him again.
A similar environment,
but not the same.
Different sections, too.
Again, he was too forward and
had a problem with letting go of my hand.
Again, I felt he was a little too much.
I'm hoping there will be no more run-ins
like then, or the third
--or, even the first.
I don't like running into Psycho boy.
32.
My hair length is bothering me.
What's the point of long hair, anyways?
Sure, it could be used as a weapon
to attract some men, but really though,
what purpose does it serve?
I could understand if it was cold,
but I live in California,
where it's mostly warm and sunny.
Even then, hats serve the purpose
of keeping a skull warm.
Long dark hair does
nothing for me,
but get in the way.
I'm not saying I don't like my hair--
But, it doesn't really have a purpose there.
It just doesn't.
33.
Across the railroad tracks,
I used to clutch your hands for
fear of falling.
I'd stand opposite you,
watching with you for the train to come.
It felt like forever
with our hands intertwined.
When the train came, I let go.
I fell back onto the dirt.
My hands became empty,
but still sweaty from the contact.
I stopped laughing,
before the pain set in.
The train finished passing,
when I stood up.
You had disappeared
into thin air.
I was confused and wondering what happened,
but couldn't do anything.
Since then, I've brushed myself off and
walked away.
34.
I've had my time to think.
Since you've said, "Goodbye,"
I pondered what I think of you.
When you said what I heard you say,
I felt shock.
I wasn't sad you've left me the way you did,
because I wanted you gone.
I'll miss your drunken confessions of love,
but that's about it.
Then again, I'd call you up when I was
feeling lonely and you'd fill me with cheer.
I never saw you much after I escaped
from the hell we both didn't like.
The few times you made the effort to see me,
you always wanted to be satisfied passionately.
About three years or so down the drain,
because you're gone now.
Now, it's my turn to say it.
"Goodbye."
35.
She sat near you on the couch.
Hurting her index finger,
she put it in her mouth.
I watched you look at her.
You had a strange look on your face,
as she looked back.
She was beaming innocence.
You perverted its message.
I could only imagine
what was going on in your mind,
you sick individual.
Especially,
when you took her finger out and kissed it.
She took her hand away and
promptly slapped you squarely in the face.
36.
I laid next to you.
The sheets were white cotton
and they molded around our bodies.
The temptations was
strong to smooth away
the wrinkles your body was causing,
but I didn't.
The only thing above the sheets were my
arm and hand
while everything else was
beneath the sheets.
You warmed me quite thoroughly
and I returned the favor.
That's all that was important.
37.
I painted my toenails yesterday.
The colour is called "Lemon Twist".
When I turned them this shade of yellow,
the light I was using didn't show
the way it would look naturally.
So, I painted them twice.
They are vibrant
--as much as one could expect--
in real light.
My ten little toes look happy,
but I'm not satisfied with Lemon.
I want them Lime.
With sparkles or glitter wouldn't hurt.
38.
Up until now,
I've done normal things normal people do.
I've carried around an ashtray and used it.
I've written an eight page letter to an ex-lover
after we broke up.
I've dyed my hair without bleaching it first.
I've made out in the front seats of a car.
I've watched people come and go.
I've made a redhead blush on several occasions.
I've propositioned men in the most normal ways.
I've had my right foot bit a couple of times.
I've sucked my thumb until the age of nine.
I've had to choose between a cigarette and a kiss.
I've done...so much more than this.
39.
I've bought you a present.
It's a really naughty gift.
It wasn't originally what I planned to get.
What I originally planned to get was
the funniest thing ever to have and own.
Anyways, I was roaming a store that sells
sexual paraphernalia.
You should of been there,
because it would have stopped my purchase.
The ordeal was quite naughty,
and I'm guilty of it all.
I bought you a present.
It's a really naughty gift.
It wasn't originally what I planned to get.
I originally planned to get you a
pair of orange-with-black-stripes-furred handcuffs,
but I opted for a condom/ruler.
The funny thing is the guy who rang up
my purchase swears
I'm going to use it on my (fictititious) lover,
when it was intended for your use.
40.
The candle gave off
enough light allowing me to see you.
We were together in my room
talking and laughing quietly.
It was some late night.
I was looking at you.
The light made me feel strange.
You eyes seemed shinier and
your whispering filled my ears,
but I couldn't understand why
I was feeling the way I was.
I already knew I had
developed this crush on you,
but I was ashamed of wanting to admit it.
I didn't know what came over me,
but I couldn't resist.
I looked away,
because if I looked into your eyes,
I would have revealed myself.
I didn't want to give myself away,
because I know I shouldn't have felt that way.
41.
I think I've finally done it.
I've finally gotten over you.
I can move on.
All right, I'm lying.
I can't get over you.
The strength of my love
is still too strong.
I'm slowly sinking in this
half-empty space.
My heart is dying with me
and it's no fun.
I'm not even going to see you again.
Thanks a lot for making me convinced
you're lovable, when I know it
shouldn't be true
--on my part, at least.
I should be over you, but I'm not.
42.
I'm standing in the rain
hoping everything will wash away.
I want a complete break from it all.
I want my soul cleansed.
I know I'll become pure and innocent
from the rain.
The water will make me good again.
I want to be good again.
Everything will become untainted
and I will have a new start.
I can't take it any longer,
since I know a renewal is having hope.
To be pristine is my one wish,
but I can't stop being dirty.
I'm going to be soiled for the rest of my life.
I can't change, even with this rain.
POETRY, SECTION THREE
1.
I've always been
ashamed to admit
my conquests.
Too many
opportunities of
bragging and
embarrassing
myself.
Never can I spend
any effort opening
myself to ridicule
of jealous people.
It's a wonder how
others can do it.
2.
Maybe there's a
worse situation-
But nothing can beat a
lighter refusing to
light.
Although not a chain-
smoker, I'm very annoyed.
The little pink friend
isn't holding up her
end of the bargain.
Let me try again-
again nothing.
Cooperation is dead.
One o'nine in the
morning, and not a
good sign for this
eighteen year old's
enjoyment of English
cigarettes.
Let me try again-
again nothing.
3.
Frequent are
these spells.
Dryness at its
highest degree.
Drier than my
mouth, after a loss
of moisture. No
thoughts and no
imagination -
Nothing arrives
from vacation.
An endless drifter
and meddler, It is.
I don't have
anything to inspire
such brilliant
thoughts.
At least, nothing
now to ignite and
fire me up.
Maybe time has
come for KISSING
OFF that outlet of
creativity, and
welcoming another.
(Hope not.)
It's rather odd how
I could spend a
small portion
complaining about
something that just
brought a sudden
cloudburst.
4.
I've been thinking
of you lately.
Too much, I'm sure.
Honey, I miss you - as
much as is possible -
although, I truly don't
want to admit it.
I haven't called in
some time, since I'm
filled with fear.
Do you have another?
I dread the possibility
of its existence.
I don't know if I love
you. Confusion has
thrown me two
sticks, but nowhere to
spark them.
Or, at least, an
enclosed place.
While you go on with
your life, I can't seem
to forget.
Maybe in your darkest
depths my memory is
there.
It'll always be.
Our paths will
eventually cross again
to end an unfinished
circle. We're only 180
degrees, not 360.
Now, if only we
could.
5.
In the early, early
morning I still
slept.
My back exposed
when you uncovered
us.
Gently you tingled
my spine, when you
rubbed a finger
along it.
Up, I shot, and
turned to you.
Lying there,
drowsiness and lust
came over us.
Sleepily, you
wrapped an arm
around while I edged
closer.
A hand felt my
nearer thigh.....
Seconds to minutes
passed -
build-up to
culmination.
Quite awakened, but
satisfied, I leaned
my head upon you
and looked at your
face. Your face
seemed to tell me
that you weren't.
I soon gave in to
your true
intentions.
6.
I think.
Maybe gone forever&
never of use again.
Hopelessly adrift
in a deep sleep.
Unless it comes back.
There's two paths comas
take: death or life -
which will it be?
I won't know until the
time comes - I'd better
wait it out.
Thinking is no help.
Things will pass at
their own will, but
it's up to me to catch
the good ones.
[I've been catching only flies.]
Muse of Inspiration,
are you there?
Dull and unclever thoughts
I have.
I want to be pregnant with
worthwhile ideas.
Or, at least, oil my mind's
wheel....Please, that's all
I ask for.
7.
My eyes look really bloodshot and I'm barely able
to lift my head from this pillow. The phone is
unhooked from an hour ago. Tissue paper scattered-
the ones that didn't make their target. Your call
hadn't started how it ended. Sweetly, you asked me
to marry you&have your babies&etc. I needed more
time which offended you. You claimed I didn't love
you. That I should of made up my mind already and
all these crazy ideas.
Now, I do agree. But, it's too late.
8.
By that house, lies a river.
One day, I sat down by that river.
I let my fingers draw ripples.
Back and forth they went.
Look. I've disappeared.
Look. I've re-appeared.
All by slight movement of my
hand.
I took my hand out.
Letting my face touch the water,
I bent over and looked in.
The reflections was of my face
and my shoulders.
My hair wasn't positioned the
usual way, but having gravity
pull it to the water.
It was cold and shallow under
the surface, and the taste of it
was clean.
When I took my face out, I heard
my name called.
I got up and left my little place.
9.
Gazing down at your lying under me.
Eyes barely opening and teeth
clenching.
Hands grasping shoulders or
waists.
Your head was tilting back.
I closed my eyes again.
Your breathing caused my eyes to re-open.
The forming of the lips was
arousing me further.
Sweating beads on the forehead.
Quickly shoving a finger in your mouth,
you responded rather well.
10.
Her lips quivered as she
witnessed all the things he did.
She couldn't believe what
happened.
His dark, glossy eyeballs held
her, while he continued doing
what he had to do.
Her left hand held the right
behind her.
At their positions, they were
completely attentive, But
unaware of the real going-on's.
What was being formulated in
his head was a curiousity of
her's.
Too bad that she never found out.
11.
The whispery voices filled the room.
Eyes and fingers pointed to the middle.
"How could you?" screamed a shrill voice.
Crying and rushing by, she passed me in the doorway.
The man remained standing with an awkward, saddened face.
I went over to him to know what that was about.
At first, he seemed shocked and reluctant.
He sat with arms crossed throwing a few words my way.
Being no help, I looked to the door, to see if she had returned.
He, then, turned to me, and uncrossed his arms.
Leaning over, he confessed all that had happened that night.
His head fell into my lap, blubbering about this and that.
I looked to the door, and saw she had returned.
Her eyes reddened, but concern overwhelmed her.
Over she went to us and reached for his hand.
He raised his head and gave a weakened smile to her.
I sat in the middle, as they tried to hug.
Struggling to escape, I heard the whispers again.
(Laughter was among them.)
Filled with relief, they joined among the other voices.
I managed to escape my position and was able to leave -
for that small scene was enough torture for one night.
12.
They sat on the couch.
Rose-colored lips moved onto his face.
A hand caressed her hair.
Her left hand almost brushed against my forehead,
for I was hiding and wanting to not be caught.
Their mouths looked somewhat connected,
and I sat on in misery.
My friend wasn't arriving.
I looked Over to the door.
Over to the other way.
I took a look Over the couch.
He wasn't anywhere.
They were still at it, and I decided they should stop.
Lightly, I tapped her hand.
It took her a while to notice, but she saw me.
Her boyfriend looked at me, then I realised something.
HE WAS THE ONE I WAS WAITING FOR.
13.
Deaden this pain in my mouth.
Please, make it stop.
Take it out.
It's right there.
Along the tongue's base, it is. It's hurting me.
Sitting where you could witness everything, on your throne.
I'm kneeling before you, as you offer the fruits to me.
I'm choking on them.
It's an awful mess.
I'm sorry you convinced me that it would be quite good.
I should bite your fingers off for all that happened.
See what happened out of what could of.
Odd at all the possibilities to have this result.
Choking, instead of enjoying.
No next time sorry.
14.
I only want you to notice me.
Poised there with glances cast your direction.
Your presence is overwhelming - I can't feel comfortable around you.
My mouth refuses to talk.
It feels so dry and withery.
Stuttering doesn't help, either.
I can never tell you how much you mean not one little word.
You still stand there.
Next to me, but so far away.
Away in your thoughts.
Who knows what you're thinking?
Maybe I'm back there somewhere.
(I doubt it heavily.)
I'll never get my wish.
My charms work against me.
It's all very well.
At least, no one is stopping me from continuous wishing.
15.
Quite late at night, we met up. Eyes full of hope, yet voices filled with nervousness.
Smiles exchanged and received. Then, kisses became more frequent.
My tee-shirt the first to go. My shorts the last.
I was amazed by all that happened. The smells, the sounds, the everything.
Your eyes turned different colors. From brown to hazel to green to any combination of the three.
You've left my body marked --Yet, I have no complaints.
How can I when that was the only time? Actually, I have one.
It was too short.
16.
The tension almost broke him.
Their bodies near the other.
Heat and confusion surrounded.
His gaze did what his hands wanted, and his hands did nothing.
Fidgety, he became.
Unable to focus on anything, because she controlled it all.
She may not know this, but he wanted to rip her apart.
It's all her fault that he's the way he is.
Drizzle temporarily cooled his nerves.
He thought it would wash away everything.
It did nothing to ruin his feelings.
He still waits there, after she left long ago.
17.
She hugged her pillow last night.
It was an unfair substitute.
Nothing could replace him.
He has exposed himself to her--
Now there couldn't be another.
Sleep was a foreigner to her.
Deep down something bugged her.
He could of had fantastic dreams,
while she starved herself of such pleasures.
The only presence she felt was loneliness.
Her eyes glazed and devoid of exhaustion, only stared at the walls.
Her blanket covered
her, but what use was it?
It was neither cold, nor hot.
All she could do was wait until
time became nice, and let her
start dreaming.
18.
I lied on my back
upon a marble table.
My lighter near the box.
Some chair supported my
ankles.
Little silvery rings of
Smoke were blown about.
[Inhaled, then exhaled.]
Funny cloudy donuts that
disappeared after
seconds.
A friend sat nearby
reading a magazine.
She didn't mind that I
was slowly poisoning
myself.
It's shameful to think it
better to finish the whole
box, rather than waste.
But, what do I know?
19.
I don't know what woke me up.
It was around 3 am.
I heard gentle snoring by my side.
It was rather funny,
but it made me lose interest in sleep.
I got up, and opened the blinds.
The light cast a glow on you.
An unhealthy greenish glow.
I could barely see you.
A strange sort of look
-- Strained, yet calm enough.
Eyes shut all the way.
After staring at you for a while,
suddenly you started, then awoke.
I was slightly ashamed by looking
at you that way.
You did nothing, but ask,
"Why are you there? Come back to bed."
I had no choice, but to oblige.
20.
She rests her head on her hand.
Her view is outside the third-story apartment window.
Sitting like a mute invalid.
Hair parts smoothly in the middle of a still head.
Heavy sighs fill the sparse room.
There is nothing to do, and no one to wait for.
So, what is she looking for?
She lives alone -- all her forty-five years --
For she never had married, or given birth,
and her friends had all moved away.
She is looking for re-assurance.
The only thing she could
manage to have from her
sad and lonely existence.
21.
He put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me.
I could feel the heat enter.
His nails felt rather sharp
when he dug in to acknowledge himself.
I swung around to look at him.
His eyes were filled hunger and anxiousness
I unattached his hand.
His hand joined the other, and attached themselves to my scalp.
I soon found myself involved with a kiss.
His grasp was tight against my nape.
I didn't want this.
He almost consumed me whole--
Yet, I broke away somehow.
22.
I hear his voice, but can't hear the words.
His intonation is fascinating the hell out of me.
He has no obvious accent, though.
I like it when he starts quiet, then becomes louder.
Or, when his voice raises pitch on vowels.
Or, even when he enunciates the wrong syllable.
There's a certain beauty in his face when he talks.
His eyebrows bob up and down.
His nose wiggles around.
All play center stage to his mouth.
It's hard trying to talk to him.
I get so lost sometimes.
He knows I can hear him
--Only that he isn't aware--
my attention isn't on what
he's saying,
but how.
23.
She pointed her head downwards.
As she looked out her window.
I saw from the street.
She didn't see me,but past in the same direction.
It looked like she was conversing with herself,
but I'm sure there was someone present with her.
I stood there looking up at her,
because there was a certain something about her.
She looked rather familiar,but I swear I don't know her name
--Maybe, it could be that she looked a lot like
puzzle pieces of people I knew.
Her blue eyes looked glazed with an iciness over them.
It looked like she was angry,
and about to smash the window she was leaning on.
I could only envision her breaking something with those dainty hands.
24.
The bath was half filled with tepid water.
You came in as a surprise.
I dropped my book in it.
You offered to help.
Leaned so near,
that I felt your breath.
A gentle hand touched my scalp,
then my neck.
I bent my head
down to look for
my book.
Your hand stayed
on my neck, but
suddenly grasped it.
I could feel it
almost snap.
Down--under
the water--I
remained.
You promised
to help me,
but you lied.
My book is still there.
25.
I stare at my finger constantly.
It's like something is missing.
I don't have a ring there.
Someone said I should.
I don't believe it's necessary, but it's bugging me.
Is it a matter of belonging or of trust?
Empty space is all I see.
Actually, does a ring signal involvement or imprisonment?
A wedding ring is one thing, but otherwise
--I don't know.
Two different situations call for different solutions.
I guess
--unless I marry you--
you have a choice to give me one or not.
Oh, but, you don't have to....
26.
"He thinks he can charm anyone in sight," I heard someone say.
I figured it's worth it to see if this claim is foolproof.
I looked about the room to find him.
He stood in one corner mesmerizing a young girl.
Well, she did look as if under his spell.
I went over to him in an effort to prove wrong.
He was quite a cocky bastard-believing any woman could be his if he wanted her.
He thought me pretty-I thought him handsome.
He tried pulling some moves on me
I tried nothing.
I didn't have to try anything.
He was definitely a loser.
27.
I'm here--lying on my past.
This room with the rug and walls.
Once a part of me, like everything else that was.
Here was a section where I burnt a tissue.
There the walls visibly own remnants of the shelves that were on them.
All the marks, cracks, and flaws that were once mine.
My bed used to be on that side.
That desk had another piece.
I can't remember what else I had.
[A lamp, a drawer, and other things--I think.]
I don't sleep here anymore.
Certain memories tie me in still.
I partially grew up in this room, or (at least) started to.
There's still things that lead me here, and make me stay for awhile.
Things that have nothing to do with "there".
28.
There's barely any light--Yet, I'm not completely blinded.
Someone's voice speaks from somewhere.
The words make partial sense.
Outlines are moving around.
I can't see anything clearly.
It's all dark and fuzzy.
I'm too far from the window to open the blinds.
Really--I don't know where I am.
If I reach into the air, could I touch someone or something?
I'm sure if I lean back, I could either
fall over or be propped up.
You touch my shoulder,
and make me turn aside.
My eyes aren't focusing,
but I could tell it was you.
I'm accustomed to feeling
your touch without any
light.
29.
My hands are
overloaded from all the
work they've done.
It's from all this strain of
raising a child alone.
That night was heaven,
but this is my reward.
When the time came for
him to prove his worth,
he left.
I swore--at the time--
he loved me, but it turned
out different.
He wasn't half the man
that I thought he was.
He's not entirely to blame
for--after all, it takes
two people to make
something as precious as
another person.
I'm ashamed to admit,
but I'm also at fault.
I play it over and over
again, and it just doesn't
seem to make sense.
If I got an another
chance, then I would
have used some sort of
birth control--or, even waited.
30.
At his window, he thinks I can't see him there--standing, or sitting.
It's partially open--as if, he has to hide.
I don't care, if I'm being watched.
I have nothing to hide.
Whatever urges him to be present there constantly.
He sees me amuse myself.
He sees me talk on the phone.
He sees me sit here.
He sees everything I do.
What pleasure does he get from knowing what I do?
I've never done anything sexual in front of him, so I don't understand.
Curiosity is a strange thing.
Very strange thing, indeed.
Again, I look his direction and see a cracked-open window.
I can tell someone is there.
It doesn't bother me, though
--Although, I can't see the point in hiding when I know he's there.
31.
I don't know how you do it.
Time after time,
I always feel bad from talking to you by whatever you say,
or however your tone takes.
It makes me so mad to know you have this power over me.
Do you do it on purpose or are you unaware of the message I'm getting?
I know you know how I am.
When my insecurities are put to the test,
it doesn't take much to prove the root cause.
32.
I turn off all my lights and wish I'd sleep.
There's no purpose to being awake,
when you are lying down by yourself.
It always takes too long.
That's why I like listening to you sing.
It's soothing and calm.
You help me fall asleep.
You and them, alone with the night and I.
I stare at the space above, while I take in
all that passes from your mouth into my ears.
I know how little babies feel when I'm being sung to.
Although, I'm not being cuddled and held,
I'm still gently sent to sleep.
33.
All around me nothing moves.
I sit on this wooden floor.
One book sits open
obviously
--This one I've chosen.
I hate complete silence,
so I listen to my mind read everything it sees.
It still would be better if I heard someone else's rustling.
I can't hear anyone or anything.
Please, someone, do something.
I have only silent words to keep me company.
I don't like being alone.
34.
Temptation stared me in the face.
I was awake next to a sleeper.
I in a chair, he in the bed.
Finishing a letter, the offer seemed alluring.
How can you not resist touching someone
who isn't conscious enough to know what is going on?
It's best when you rub their nose, or an earlobe.
People sleeping only move about.
The worst to happen is for them to wake up and slap you.
Most times, they twitch and move their hand about.
I couldn't resist.
It just called me.
I touched his exposed shoulder with a couple of jabs.
He seemed to brush away invisible pests.
35
Yesterday, I went to your house.
No one answered the door.
You gave me keys, so I could just go in and wait for you.
I used them.
It felt weird--As if I was breaking in.
Upon entering I heard mumbling and strange
noises from upstairs.
I should of just waited, but I was curious.
I sneaked up the stairs to hear the noises become louder.
It was loudest when I stood in front of your door.
I looked
-- There was someone in your bed.
That person wasn't alone.
They were with one of our mutual friends.
It was sickening enough to know they were involved, but this was even sicker.
For a few seconds,
I found myself thinking why they should use your bed,
because they don't even live with you.
Then, I remembered all your close friends
have keys to your house.
36.
Running from the scene,
it became more of a blur as I got farther away.
I ran as fast as I could.
I don't ever want to feel that way again.
It had started with flowers and a mysterious letters.
Then, it wound up into this meeting.
I'm unsure how it went from the first to second.
He arrived on time, like he promised.
That was a good sign.
I wasn't quite expecting someone so tall.
That was a bad sign-Maybe.
He seemed a gentleman-Until he bent over for a kiss.
I thought it an inappropriate moment.
I nudged him away, but he held me tighter.
He scratched my neck with his right hand.
I could feel it sting my skin.
Then, he stifled my mouth with his left.
I couldn't even breath.
I was extremely frightened.
I knew that I never experienced that before.
I had to fight or flee.
He looked too big to fight, so I quickly pushed away.
Before he could grab me again,
I--I've never ran so fast from anything.
37.
I lie on the couch and tell you more and more about myself with each second that passes.
I don't see any point to paying someone,
so they'd listen to my problems.
When I consider how much time is spent,
I realise how much of a waste it is.
Don't get me wrong,
but are you actually listening to me,
or just hearing sounds and mouthing off what is actually on YOUR mind?
No, really, do you even consider all your opinions aren't going to help the pain to heal?
I don't think it's very healthy to have someone else sputter junk at me and try to say they're helping.
I know you think you are trying to help me by
analysing everything I say and offering bits of advice in return for telling you what ails me, but
--Guess what--
I'm a compulsive liar,
and need someone to lie to.
38.
I think my violin isn't tuned correctly.
It's not playing music as beautifully as usual.
I'm sure my talent isn't diminishing on me.
Maybe my hands are becoming marred with a mysterious, uncurable disease.
Maybe they are becoming less usable, because of other factors.
The bow hasn't lost any horsehairs,
and the body of my beloved instrument isn't cracked (or deformed) in any way.
Nothing is physically broken.
I can't see what the problem is.
Maybe I'm doing something wrong.
I don't understand why this instrument doesn't want to play anything in tune.
39.
The thing you
gave me now lies
in a wooden box.
It's dismembered
into several
pieces.
Still, that doesn't
symbolize how
much I love you.
I'm sorry, because
I was alone and
bored. It was
really late into the
night -- Rise, it's
arm had already
come apart from
the rest.
I wanted to see
what was in it.
If a torn-apart doll
indicates what I
feel, then it must
mean I don't care
about you
anymore.
I know that's
totally wrong. My
obvious feelings
prove it.
The doll may be
separated, but in
no way can you say
it's evidence of my
affection.
40.
Do you think if
one little worthless moment of our lives were changed,
would the whole rest of our lives be different?
"I don't know. I guess it depends on what exactly you mean by worthless- Probably, not too much."
If, say, I didn't have
this obsessive side to myself,
would everything else reflect it?
"Before you go any further -- Where ever did you come up with these questions -- I guess..."
I don't know --
But, wouldn't it be great if we all
had time machines and changed whatever we hated?
"That would be all right, but if we could change whatever we liked -- Um, well...."
Don't tell me that you don't like the idea,
because I know you more than anyone else
isn't satisfied?
"I know, but there's beauty in things that are out of our control Then again, I wouldn't mind if..."
41.
I've been thrown
into the awkwardest
of ail situations.
Never home I been
this confused about
anything.
Now, it's a small
test of strength.
It's strange how one
person could change
everything, including
someone else
It's rather unkind to
say he ruined my life
by making me this
confused.
I home to admit it's
not all I his fault --
after all, he's not
the only one involved.
The other "him"
doesn't have to know,
but, it's hard to not
tell.
I can't say it's
rearing me apart, but
it does leave its
mark
It leaves me wishing
it all away or
quickly resolved.
I wish I knew ...
42.
They stood in the
middle of the festivities.
I say him brush the hair out of her eyes
and lean down and kiss her cheek.
I felt warmly towards them.
Next to them, stood a
pair that seemed the
opposite way.
They seemed ready to
explode and argue.
She was eager to strike.
I fell strange towards them.
I was more amused with
the second couple.
It's always mesmerizing
to watch people who aren't filled with flowery, silly love
-- the kind where one goes, Oh, Snookums..."
I watched as this
incensed young couple
tried to remain calm, so
not to gather unwanted
attention.
It's very strange how
some can handle it so
relaxed.
It didn't take long before
the woman went off.
I looked back to the
other couple and still found them disgusting.
At least, I still have them.
43.
The rum swimmed in my head.
It makes me do insane things.
Once, it got me to table-dance
after I ripped
open my clothing
Another time I related
all the stories of everywhere
I've been shagged.
You sat next to me and
watched my movements.
I turned to you and reached for your hand.
You didn't quite expect a thumb-sucking session.
I saw your face turn really nervous.
I haw to admit that this
wasn't as crazy as some
of the others.
Although I can't
remember what happened
next, I found the bottle
smashed on the floor
with your clothes on top.
44.
It's come sooner than I
expected, but I'm going now.
I never knew this day would come so quickly.
I'm sorry, but there's an way around it
In the beginning,
I knew the signs were positive and showed the right direction.
Now, they just stand in my way and lead me nowhere.
I realise I've been led astray and stand rather lost.
I kept waking without a clue to where I was --
Now, it's like the clues woke me up
45.
His soft lips parted
Slowly, slowly - They did that.
But, he kissed no one.
46.
A ring of flowers
Lay on the desk all alone
with an unused look.
47.
I'm still trying
to figure out
a sign that
we were made
for each other.
From what I
know there could
be some that
should get me
so curious.
Even then, I
wait for something
so clear, that
it stings me
from such a
strong slap in
the face.
48.
"You were very
naughty last time I
saw you.
I say you deserve a
good spanking.
Or, a certain
something should be withheld."
I laugh at you as your
face gives me that look.
You know that look.
The one that springs up
whenever I upset you.
You must like the games
I play, because you
always come back for
more.
I'm sure you deserve
better, but for now, this
is what you get.
49.
Everytime I think of you, cigarettes come to mind.
It's rather simple
to explain my logic.
You always smell,
always taste,
always -- of (most likely) Marlboro Lite's.
There isn't one moment that passes where I don't see you have one.
You even have called yourself a "chimney".
Let's see....
cigarettes after breakfast,
cigarettes after sex,
cigarettes after
--Well, you get the point.
I know this sounds weird, but I don't mind, at all.
Just as long as there's cigarettes in your hands and you're happy,
then neither one of us has anything to complain about.
50.
I find it hard to say.
It's just three little words long,
or however long in any other
language.
Well, I find it hard to say.
It's supposed to have some
sort of meaning -- Not just,
"Oh, it just came out."
Well, I do find it hard to say.
It's sprung out of my lips a
few times, but I don't know
if I've said it clear enough.
Well, I do find it hard to say.
It's something people
should realise has more than
one interpretation.
I shouldn't find it hard to say.
I know I mean what I tell
and should just spit it out.
"Bonjour...Je t'aime."
51.
The moon bathed us in light.
We stood hand in hand on the shoreline.
I turned to you and found your mouth completely responsive.
It was so soft and gentle.
I soon found myself lying
down with your hands all over me.
They were as warm as your mouth.
Even then, I don't know how it got that way.
It just went from A to B.
Our bare feet were wet from the water,
while the rest got sandy.
My hair fell around your face
with various strands in and out
of your mouth.
We made love then and there.
It was the most incredible moment.
52.
I saw a fire burning from my window and the beach-goers around it.
It stood out among the sand and showered them with warmth.
They looked as if they were shivering.
A late night dip in the middle of the dark
resulting in wet clothes and trembling voices.
A typical late night excursion for a few people
--I think there are only seven--
I can't tell from here really,
since they are a bit away from my seat.
I feel like a peeper because I doubt they realise
that someone they don't know
has a view.
53.
What do you do
when you feel everyone
is annoying you?
Do you hide away in an
attic and become well-red & pasty?
Do you lock yourself in
your room and learn an instrument?
Do you go somewhere deserted?
Just what are your options
when there's no other way.
Should you avoid public
places like: groceries,
shopping centers
and the like?
Should you refrain from speaking to strangers who pass by?
Should you shun visitors?
A life spent mostly alone
doesn't sound bad, when
you think about it.
All those ideas sound
nice, but wouldn't you
prefer it if you got over this phase?
54.
I touched his neck.
The hairs and nape
called my name.
My fingers smoothly
stroked it.
He bent his head
forward reading his
book, while I sat next
to him.
Our cigarettes
burning to their roots in our hands.
My legs were crossed, .
and his up on the dashboard
I got strangely
aroused off it.
My body felt
needed, but I couldn't
do anything about it.
My warm hands
gently rubbed down it,
then up in direction.
Slowly, slowly they
went and moved over
it.
I prefer his hair
short, rather than all
the extra hair he told
me of.
I wouldn't miss a
moment so strangely
arousing and
tempting.
I would't miss it for
the world.
55.
A drowned beauty lay in the pond.
Hands tied and mouth gagged.
No visible signs of struggle
--looking like she done it herself.
She lay there unmoving and unable to hear anything.
No hints of life chose to be around her.
Only serene water and leaves are her company.
I saw her under the branches,
while playing hide and seek.
Her eyes were closed,
as if deeply asleep.
Her hair was in-between
blonde and brunette
--without a touch of mud--
but it was the muddiest part of the pond.
It's possible that she was
freshly strangled and
dumped here.
56.
We were saying our farewells
on the doorsteps.
It was almost midnight and
the moon was over our heads.
Before looking into my eyes,
your hand lingered on my
shoulder.
My hands rubbed your hair to
which you responded
affectionately and deliberately.
Then, came the kiss
It was done slowly that
every second could be
savoured, and You
whispered, "I love you,"
so seductively in my ear.
I went inside the house and
watched as you left down
the steps, from the window
After I saw you take one
final look, I closed the
window.
57.
He gave me a bracelet made of bronze and fake crystals.
I more it on my wrist, But lost it the next hour.
He gave me earrings made of copper and ruby.
I wore them on my ears, But lost then the next day.
He gave me a necklace made of silver and garnet.
I wore it on my neck, But lost it the next week.
He gave me a ring made of gold and diamond.
I wore it on my humbling finger, But lost it the next month.
He gave me his love made of his emotions.
I wore it on my heart, But lost it the next year.
58.
It's upsetting to hear an appliance is taller.
I can't help my height.
There's not a drug out there that could change genetics
--I know.
I blame my stature on the genes I've received.
My age points out that this is all I'm getting for now and forever.
Height is one of those uncontrollable forces
like earthquakes and hurricanes,
that obviously no person can regulate.
Some people don't think of me as small, but smaller.
Unfortunately, smaller isn't good enough for me to consider myself
a comfortable distance between the floor and ceiling.
I've always been
ashamed to admit
my conquests.
Too many
opportunities of
bragging and
embarrassing
myself.
Never can I spend
any effort opening
myself to ridicule
of jealous people.
It's a wonder how
others can do it.
2.
Maybe there's a
worse situation-
But nothing can beat a
lighter refusing to
light.
Although not a chain-
smoker, I'm very annoyed.
The little pink friend
isn't holding up her
end of the bargain.
Let me try again-
again nothing.
Cooperation is dead.
One o'nine in the
morning, and not a
good sign for this
eighteen year old's
enjoyment of English
cigarettes.
Let me try again-
again nothing.
3.
Frequent are
these spells.
Dryness at its
highest degree.
Drier than my
mouth, after a loss
of moisture. No
thoughts and no
imagination -
Nothing arrives
from vacation.
An endless drifter
and meddler, It is.
I don't have
anything to inspire
such brilliant
thoughts.
At least, nothing
now to ignite and
fire me up.
Maybe time has
come for KISSING
OFF that outlet of
creativity, and
welcoming another.
(Hope not.)
It's rather odd how
I could spend a
small portion
complaining about
something that just
brought a sudden
cloudburst.
4.
I've been thinking
of you lately.
Too much, I'm sure.
Honey, I miss you - as
much as is possible -
although, I truly don't
want to admit it.
I haven't called in
some time, since I'm
filled with fear.
Do you have another?
I dread the possibility
of its existence.
I don't know if I love
you. Confusion has
thrown me two
sticks, but nowhere to
spark them.
Or, at least, an
enclosed place.
While you go on with
your life, I can't seem
to forget.
Maybe in your darkest
depths my memory is
there.
It'll always be.
Our paths will
eventually cross again
to end an unfinished
circle. We're only 180
degrees, not 360.
Now, if only we
could.
5.
In the early, early
morning I still
slept.
My back exposed
when you uncovered
us.
Gently you tingled
my spine, when you
rubbed a finger
along it.
Up, I shot, and
turned to you.
Lying there,
drowsiness and lust
came over us.
Sleepily, you
wrapped an arm
around while I edged
closer.
A hand felt my
nearer thigh.....
Seconds to minutes
passed -
build-up to
culmination.
Quite awakened, but
satisfied, I leaned
my head upon you
and looked at your
face. Your face
seemed to tell me
that you weren't.
I soon gave in to
your true
intentions.
6.
I think.
Maybe gone forever&
never of use again.
Hopelessly adrift
in a deep sleep.
Unless it comes back.
There's two paths comas
take: death or life -
which will it be?
I won't know until the
time comes - I'd better
wait it out.
Thinking is no help.
Things will pass at
their own will, but
it's up to me to catch
the good ones.
[I've been catching only flies.]
Muse of Inspiration,
are you there?
Dull and unclever thoughts
I have.
I want to be pregnant with
worthwhile ideas.
Or, at least, oil my mind's
wheel....Please, that's all
I ask for.
7.
My eyes look really bloodshot and I'm barely able
to lift my head from this pillow. The phone is
unhooked from an hour ago. Tissue paper scattered-
the ones that didn't make their target. Your call
hadn't started how it ended. Sweetly, you asked me
to marry you&have your babies&etc. I needed more
time which offended you. You claimed I didn't love
you. That I should of made up my mind already and
all these crazy ideas.
Now, I do agree. But, it's too late.
8.
By that house, lies a river.
One day, I sat down by that river.
I let my fingers draw ripples.
Back and forth they went.
Look. I've disappeared.
Look. I've re-appeared.
All by slight movement of my
hand.
I took my hand out.
Letting my face touch the water,
I bent over and looked in.
The reflections was of my face
and my shoulders.
My hair wasn't positioned the
usual way, but having gravity
pull it to the water.
It was cold and shallow under
the surface, and the taste of it
was clean.
When I took my face out, I heard
my name called.
I got up and left my little place.
9.
Gazing down at your lying under me.
Eyes barely opening and teeth
clenching.
Hands grasping shoulders or
waists.
Your head was tilting back.
I closed my eyes again.
Your breathing caused my eyes to re-open.
The forming of the lips was
arousing me further.
Sweating beads on the forehead.
Quickly shoving a finger in your mouth,
you responded rather well.
10.
Her lips quivered as she
witnessed all the things he did.
She couldn't believe what
happened.
His dark, glossy eyeballs held
her, while he continued doing
what he had to do.
Her left hand held the right
behind her.
At their positions, they were
completely attentive, But
unaware of the real going-on's.
What was being formulated in
his head was a curiousity of
her's.
Too bad that she never found out.
11.
The whispery voices filled the room.
Eyes and fingers pointed to the middle.
"How could you?" screamed a shrill voice.
Crying and rushing by, she passed me in the doorway.
The man remained standing with an awkward, saddened face.
I went over to him to know what that was about.
At first, he seemed shocked and reluctant.
He sat with arms crossed throwing a few words my way.
Being no help, I looked to the door, to see if she had returned.
He, then, turned to me, and uncrossed his arms.
Leaning over, he confessed all that had happened that night.
His head fell into my lap, blubbering about this and that.
I looked to the door, and saw she had returned.
Her eyes reddened, but concern overwhelmed her.
Over she went to us and reached for his hand.
He raised his head and gave a weakened smile to her.
I sat in the middle, as they tried to hug.
Struggling to escape, I heard the whispers again.
(Laughter was among them.)
Filled with relief, they joined among the other voices.
I managed to escape my position and was able to leave -
for that small scene was enough torture for one night.
12.
They sat on the couch.
Rose-colored lips moved onto his face.
A hand caressed her hair.
Her left hand almost brushed against my forehead,
for I was hiding and wanting to not be caught.
Their mouths looked somewhat connected,
and I sat on in misery.
My friend wasn't arriving.
I looked Over to the door.
Over to the other way.
I took a look Over the couch.
He wasn't anywhere.
They were still at it, and I decided they should stop.
Lightly, I tapped her hand.
It took her a while to notice, but she saw me.
Her boyfriend looked at me, then I realised something.
HE WAS THE ONE I WAS WAITING FOR.
13.
Deaden this pain in my mouth.
Please, make it stop.
Take it out.
It's right there.
Along the tongue's base, it is. It's hurting me.
Sitting where you could witness everything, on your throne.
I'm kneeling before you, as you offer the fruits to me.
I'm choking on them.
It's an awful mess.
I'm sorry you convinced me that it would be quite good.
I should bite your fingers off for all that happened.
See what happened out of what could of.
Odd at all the possibilities to have this result.
Choking, instead of enjoying.
No next time sorry.
14.
I only want you to notice me.
Poised there with glances cast your direction.
Your presence is overwhelming - I can't feel comfortable around you.
My mouth refuses to talk.
It feels so dry and withery.
Stuttering doesn't help, either.
I can never tell you how much you mean not one little word.
You still stand there.
Next to me, but so far away.
Away in your thoughts.
Who knows what you're thinking?
Maybe I'm back there somewhere.
(I doubt it heavily.)
I'll never get my wish.
My charms work against me.
It's all very well.
At least, no one is stopping me from continuous wishing.
15.
Quite late at night, we met up. Eyes full of hope, yet voices filled with nervousness.
Smiles exchanged and received. Then, kisses became more frequent.
My tee-shirt the first to go. My shorts the last.
I was amazed by all that happened. The smells, the sounds, the everything.
Your eyes turned different colors. From brown to hazel to green to any combination of the three.
You've left my body marked --Yet, I have no complaints.
How can I when that was the only time? Actually, I have one.
It was too short.
16.
The tension almost broke him.
Their bodies near the other.
Heat and confusion surrounded.
His gaze did what his hands wanted, and his hands did nothing.
Fidgety, he became.
Unable to focus on anything, because she controlled it all.
She may not know this, but he wanted to rip her apart.
It's all her fault that he's the way he is.
Drizzle temporarily cooled his nerves.
He thought it would wash away everything.
It did nothing to ruin his feelings.
He still waits there, after she left long ago.
17.
She hugged her pillow last night.
It was an unfair substitute.
Nothing could replace him.
He has exposed himself to her--
Now there couldn't be another.
Sleep was a foreigner to her.
Deep down something bugged her.
He could of had fantastic dreams,
while she starved herself of such pleasures.
The only presence she felt was loneliness.
Her eyes glazed and devoid of exhaustion, only stared at the walls.
Her blanket covered
her, but what use was it?
It was neither cold, nor hot.
All she could do was wait until
time became nice, and let her
start dreaming.
18.
I lied on my back
upon a marble table.
My lighter near the box.
Some chair supported my
ankles.
Little silvery rings of
Smoke were blown about.
[Inhaled, then exhaled.]
Funny cloudy donuts that
disappeared after
seconds.
A friend sat nearby
reading a magazine.
She didn't mind that I
was slowly poisoning
myself.
It's shameful to think it
better to finish the whole
box, rather than waste.
But, what do I know?
19.
I don't know what woke me up.
It was around 3 am.
I heard gentle snoring by my side.
It was rather funny,
but it made me lose interest in sleep.
I got up, and opened the blinds.
The light cast a glow on you.
An unhealthy greenish glow.
I could barely see you.
A strange sort of look
-- Strained, yet calm enough.
Eyes shut all the way.
After staring at you for a while,
suddenly you started, then awoke.
I was slightly ashamed by looking
at you that way.
You did nothing, but ask,
"Why are you there? Come back to bed."
I had no choice, but to oblige.
20.
She rests her head on her hand.
Her view is outside the third-story apartment window.
Sitting like a mute invalid.
Hair parts smoothly in the middle of a still head.
Heavy sighs fill the sparse room.
There is nothing to do, and no one to wait for.
So, what is she looking for?
She lives alone -- all her forty-five years --
For she never had married, or given birth,
and her friends had all moved away.
She is looking for re-assurance.
The only thing she could
manage to have from her
sad and lonely existence.
21.
He put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me.
I could feel the heat enter.
His nails felt rather sharp
when he dug in to acknowledge himself.
I swung around to look at him.
His eyes were filled hunger and anxiousness
I unattached his hand.
His hand joined the other, and attached themselves to my scalp.
I soon found myself involved with a kiss.
His grasp was tight against my nape.
I didn't want this.
He almost consumed me whole--
Yet, I broke away somehow.
22.
I hear his voice, but can't hear the words.
His intonation is fascinating the hell out of me.
He has no obvious accent, though.
I like it when he starts quiet, then becomes louder.
Or, when his voice raises pitch on vowels.
Or, even when he enunciates the wrong syllable.
There's a certain beauty in his face when he talks.
His eyebrows bob up and down.
His nose wiggles around.
All play center stage to his mouth.
It's hard trying to talk to him.
I get so lost sometimes.
He knows I can hear him
--Only that he isn't aware--
my attention isn't on what
he's saying,
but how.
23.
She pointed her head downwards.
As she looked out her window.
I saw from the street.
She didn't see me,but past in the same direction.
It looked like she was conversing with herself,
but I'm sure there was someone present with her.
I stood there looking up at her,
because there was a certain something about her.
She looked rather familiar,but I swear I don't know her name
--Maybe, it could be that she looked a lot like
puzzle pieces of people I knew.
Her blue eyes looked glazed with an iciness over them.
It looked like she was angry,
and about to smash the window she was leaning on.
I could only envision her breaking something with those dainty hands.
24.
The bath was half filled with tepid water.
You came in as a surprise.
I dropped my book in it.
You offered to help.
Leaned so near,
that I felt your breath.
A gentle hand touched my scalp,
then my neck.
I bent my head
down to look for
my book.
Your hand stayed
on my neck, but
suddenly grasped it.
I could feel it
almost snap.
Down--under
the water--I
remained.
You promised
to help me,
but you lied.
My book is still there.
25.
I stare at my finger constantly.
It's like something is missing.
I don't have a ring there.
Someone said I should.
I don't believe it's necessary, but it's bugging me.
Is it a matter of belonging or of trust?
Empty space is all I see.
Actually, does a ring signal involvement or imprisonment?
A wedding ring is one thing, but otherwise
--I don't know.
Two different situations call for different solutions.
I guess
--unless I marry you--
you have a choice to give me one or not.
Oh, but, you don't have to....
26.
"He thinks he can charm anyone in sight," I heard someone say.
I figured it's worth it to see if this claim is foolproof.
I looked about the room to find him.
He stood in one corner mesmerizing a young girl.
Well, she did look as if under his spell.
I went over to him in an effort to prove wrong.
He was quite a cocky bastard-believing any woman could be his if he wanted her.
He thought me pretty-I thought him handsome.
He tried pulling some moves on me
I tried nothing.
I didn't have to try anything.
He was definitely a loser.
27.
I'm here--lying on my past.
This room with the rug and walls.
Once a part of me, like everything else that was.
Here was a section where I burnt a tissue.
There the walls visibly own remnants of the shelves that were on them.
All the marks, cracks, and flaws that were once mine.
My bed used to be on that side.
That desk had another piece.
I can't remember what else I had.
[A lamp, a drawer, and other things--I think.]
I don't sleep here anymore.
Certain memories tie me in still.
I partially grew up in this room, or (at least) started to.
There's still things that lead me here, and make me stay for awhile.
Things that have nothing to do with "there".
28.
There's barely any light--Yet, I'm not completely blinded.
Someone's voice speaks from somewhere.
The words make partial sense.
Outlines are moving around.
I can't see anything clearly.
It's all dark and fuzzy.
I'm too far from the window to open the blinds.
Really--I don't know where I am.
If I reach into the air, could I touch someone or something?
I'm sure if I lean back, I could either
fall over or be propped up.
You touch my shoulder,
and make me turn aside.
My eyes aren't focusing,
but I could tell it was you.
I'm accustomed to feeling
your touch without any
light.
29.
My hands are
overloaded from all the
work they've done.
It's from all this strain of
raising a child alone.
That night was heaven,
but this is my reward.
When the time came for
him to prove his worth,
he left.
I swore--at the time--
he loved me, but it turned
out different.
He wasn't half the man
that I thought he was.
He's not entirely to blame
for--after all, it takes
two people to make
something as precious as
another person.
I'm ashamed to admit,
but I'm also at fault.
I play it over and over
again, and it just doesn't
seem to make sense.
If I got an another
chance, then I would
have used some sort of
birth control--or, even waited.
30.
At his window, he thinks I can't see him there--standing, or sitting.
It's partially open--as if, he has to hide.
I don't care, if I'm being watched.
I have nothing to hide.
Whatever urges him to be present there constantly.
He sees me amuse myself.
He sees me talk on the phone.
He sees me sit here.
He sees everything I do.
What pleasure does he get from knowing what I do?
I've never done anything sexual in front of him, so I don't understand.
Curiosity is a strange thing.
Very strange thing, indeed.
Again, I look his direction and see a cracked-open window.
I can tell someone is there.
It doesn't bother me, though
--Although, I can't see the point in hiding when I know he's there.
31.
I don't know how you do it.
Time after time,
I always feel bad from talking to you by whatever you say,
or however your tone takes.
It makes me so mad to know you have this power over me.
Do you do it on purpose or are you unaware of the message I'm getting?
I know you know how I am.
When my insecurities are put to the test,
it doesn't take much to prove the root cause.
32.
I turn off all my lights and wish I'd sleep.
There's no purpose to being awake,
when you are lying down by yourself.
It always takes too long.
That's why I like listening to you sing.
It's soothing and calm.
You help me fall asleep.
You and them, alone with the night and I.
I stare at the space above, while I take in
all that passes from your mouth into my ears.
I know how little babies feel when I'm being sung to.
Although, I'm not being cuddled and held,
I'm still gently sent to sleep.
33.
All around me nothing moves.
I sit on this wooden floor.
One book sits open
obviously
--This one I've chosen.
I hate complete silence,
so I listen to my mind read everything it sees.
It still would be better if I heard someone else's rustling.
I can't hear anyone or anything.
Please, someone, do something.
I have only silent words to keep me company.
I don't like being alone.
34.
Temptation stared me in the face.
I was awake next to a sleeper.
I in a chair, he in the bed.
Finishing a letter, the offer seemed alluring.
How can you not resist touching someone
who isn't conscious enough to know what is going on?
It's best when you rub their nose, or an earlobe.
People sleeping only move about.
The worst to happen is for them to wake up and slap you.
Most times, they twitch and move their hand about.
I couldn't resist.
It just called me.
I touched his exposed shoulder with a couple of jabs.
He seemed to brush away invisible pests.
35
Yesterday, I went to your house.
No one answered the door.
You gave me keys, so I could just go in and wait for you.
I used them.
It felt weird--As if I was breaking in.
Upon entering I heard mumbling and strange
noises from upstairs.
I should of just waited, but I was curious.
I sneaked up the stairs to hear the noises become louder.
It was loudest when I stood in front of your door.
I looked
-- There was someone in your bed.
That person wasn't alone.
They were with one of our mutual friends.
It was sickening enough to know they were involved, but this was even sicker.
For a few seconds,
I found myself thinking why they should use your bed,
because they don't even live with you.
Then, I remembered all your close friends
have keys to your house.
36.
Running from the scene,
it became more of a blur as I got farther away.
I ran as fast as I could.
I don't ever want to feel that way again.
It had started with flowers and a mysterious letters.
Then, it wound up into this meeting.
I'm unsure how it went from the first to second.
He arrived on time, like he promised.
That was a good sign.
I wasn't quite expecting someone so tall.
That was a bad sign-Maybe.
He seemed a gentleman-Until he bent over for a kiss.
I thought it an inappropriate moment.
I nudged him away, but he held me tighter.
He scratched my neck with his right hand.
I could feel it sting my skin.
Then, he stifled my mouth with his left.
I couldn't even breath.
I was extremely frightened.
I knew that I never experienced that before.
I had to fight or flee.
He looked too big to fight, so I quickly pushed away.
Before he could grab me again,
I--I've never ran so fast from anything.
37.
I lie on the couch and tell you more and more about myself with each second that passes.
I don't see any point to paying someone,
so they'd listen to my problems.
When I consider how much time is spent,
I realise how much of a waste it is.
Don't get me wrong,
but are you actually listening to me,
or just hearing sounds and mouthing off what is actually on YOUR mind?
No, really, do you even consider all your opinions aren't going to help the pain to heal?
I don't think it's very healthy to have someone else sputter junk at me and try to say they're helping.
I know you think you are trying to help me by
analysing everything I say and offering bits of advice in return for telling you what ails me, but
--Guess what--
I'm a compulsive liar,
and need someone to lie to.
38.
I think my violin isn't tuned correctly.
It's not playing music as beautifully as usual.
I'm sure my talent isn't diminishing on me.
Maybe my hands are becoming marred with a mysterious, uncurable disease.
Maybe they are becoming less usable, because of other factors.
The bow hasn't lost any horsehairs,
and the body of my beloved instrument isn't cracked (or deformed) in any way.
Nothing is physically broken.
I can't see what the problem is.
Maybe I'm doing something wrong.
I don't understand why this instrument doesn't want to play anything in tune.
39.
The thing you
gave me now lies
in a wooden box.
It's dismembered
into several
pieces.
Still, that doesn't
symbolize how
much I love you.
I'm sorry, because
I was alone and
bored. It was
really late into the
night -- Rise, it's
arm had already
come apart from
the rest.
I wanted to see
what was in it.
If a torn-apart doll
indicates what I
feel, then it must
mean I don't care
about you
anymore.
I know that's
totally wrong. My
obvious feelings
prove it.
The doll may be
separated, but in
no way can you say
it's evidence of my
affection.
40.
Do you think if
one little worthless moment of our lives were changed,
would the whole rest of our lives be different?
"I don't know. I guess it depends on what exactly you mean by worthless- Probably, not too much."
If, say, I didn't have
this obsessive side to myself,
would everything else reflect it?
"Before you go any further -- Where ever did you come up with these questions -- I guess..."
I don't know --
But, wouldn't it be great if we all
had time machines and changed whatever we hated?
"That would be all right, but if we could change whatever we liked -- Um, well...."
Don't tell me that you don't like the idea,
because I know you more than anyone else
isn't satisfied?
"I know, but there's beauty in things that are out of our control Then again, I wouldn't mind if..."
41.
I've been thrown
into the awkwardest
of ail situations.
Never home I been
this confused about
anything.
Now, it's a small
test of strength.
It's strange how one
person could change
everything, including
someone else
It's rather unkind to
say he ruined my life
by making me this
confused.
I home to admit it's
not all I his fault --
after all, he's not
the only one involved.
The other "him"
doesn't have to know,
but, it's hard to not
tell.
I can't say it's
rearing me apart, but
it does leave its
mark
It leaves me wishing
it all away or
quickly resolved.
I wish I knew ...
42.
They stood in the
middle of the festivities.
I say him brush the hair out of her eyes
and lean down and kiss her cheek.
I felt warmly towards them.
Next to them, stood a
pair that seemed the
opposite way.
They seemed ready to
explode and argue.
She was eager to strike.
I fell strange towards them.
I was more amused with
the second couple.
It's always mesmerizing
to watch people who aren't filled with flowery, silly love
-- the kind where one goes, Oh, Snookums..."
I watched as this
incensed young couple
tried to remain calm, so
not to gather unwanted
attention.
It's very strange how
some can handle it so
relaxed.
It didn't take long before
the woman went off.
I looked back to the
other couple and still found them disgusting.
At least, I still have them.
43.
The rum swimmed in my head.
It makes me do insane things.
Once, it got me to table-dance
after I ripped
open my clothing
Another time I related
all the stories of everywhere
I've been shagged.
You sat next to me and
watched my movements.
I turned to you and reached for your hand.
You didn't quite expect a thumb-sucking session.
I saw your face turn really nervous.
I haw to admit that this
wasn't as crazy as some
of the others.
Although I can't
remember what happened
next, I found the bottle
smashed on the floor
with your clothes on top.
44.
It's come sooner than I
expected, but I'm going now.
I never knew this day would come so quickly.
I'm sorry, but there's an way around it
In the beginning,
I knew the signs were positive and showed the right direction.
Now, they just stand in my way and lead me nowhere.
I realise I've been led astray and stand rather lost.
I kept waking without a clue to where I was --
Now, it's like the clues woke me up
45.
His soft lips parted
Slowly, slowly - They did that.
But, he kissed no one.
46.
A ring of flowers
Lay on the desk all alone
with an unused look.
47.
I'm still trying
to figure out
a sign that
we were made
for each other.
From what I
know there could
be some that
should get me
so curious.
Even then, I
wait for something
so clear, that
it stings me
from such a
strong slap in
the face.
48.
"You were very
naughty last time I
saw you.
I say you deserve a
good spanking.
Or, a certain
something should be withheld."
I laugh at you as your
face gives me that look.
You know that look.
The one that springs up
whenever I upset you.
You must like the games
I play, because you
always come back for
more.
I'm sure you deserve
better, but for now, this
is what you get.
49.
Everytime I think of you, cigarettes come to mind.
It's rather simple
to explain my logic.
You always smell,
always taste,
always -- of (most likely) Marlboro Lite's.
There isn't one moment that passes where I don't see you have one.
You even have called yourself a "chimney".
Let's see....
cigarettes after breakfast,
cigarettes after sex,
cigarettes after
--Well, you get the point.
I know this sounds weird, but I don't mind, at all.
Just as long as there's cigarettes in your hands and you're happy,
then neither one of us has anything to complain about.
50.
I find it hard to say.
It's just three little words long,
or however long in any other
language.
Well, I find it hard to say.
It's supposed to have some
sort of meaning -- Not just,
"Oh, it just came out."
Well, I do find it hard to say.
It's sprung out of my lips a
few times, but I don't know
if I've said it clear enough.
Well, I do find it hard to say.
It's something people
should realise has more than
one interpretation.
I shouldn't find it hard to say.
I know I mean what I tell
and should just spit it out.
"Bonjour...Je t'aime."
51.
The moon bathed us in light.
We stood hand in hand on the shoreline.
I turned to you and found your mouth completely responsive.
It was so soft and gentle.
I soon found myself lying
down with your hands all over me.
They were as warm as your mouth.
Even then, I don't know how it got that way.
It just went from A to B.
Our bare feet were wet from the water,
while the rest got sandy.
My hair fell around your face
with various strands in and out
of your mouth.
We made love then and there.
It was the most incredible moment.
52.
I saw a fire burning from my window and the beach-goers around it.
It stood out among the sand and showered them with warmth.
They looked as if they were shivering.
A late night dip in the middle of the dark
resulting in wet clothes and trembling voices.
A typical late night excursion for a few people
--I think there are only seven--
I can't tell from here really,
since they are a bit away from my seat.
I feel like a peeper because I doubt they realise
that someone they don't know
has a view.
53.
What do you do
when you feel everyone
is annoying you?
Do you hide away in an
attic and become well-red & pasty?
Do you lock yourself in
your room and learn an instrument?
Do you go somewhere deserted?
Just what are your options
when there's no other way.
Should you avoid public
places like: groceries,
shopping centers
and the like?
Should you refrain from speaking to strangers who pass by?
Should you shun visitors?
A life spent mostly alone
doesn't sound bad, when
you think about it.
All those ideas sound
nice, but wouldn't you
prefer it if you got over this phase?
54.
I touched his neck.
The hairs and nape
called my name.
My fingers smoothly
stroked it.
He bent his head
forward reading his
book, while I sat next
to him.
Our cigarettes
burning to their roots in our hands.
My legs were crossed, .
and his up on the dashboard
I got strangely
aroused off it.
My body felt
needed, but I couldn't
do anything about it.
My warm hands
gently rubbed down it,
then up in direction.
Slowly, slowly they
went and moved over
it.
I prefer his hair
short, rather than all
the extra hair he told
me of.
I wouldn't miss a
moment so strangely
arousing and
tempting.
I would't miss it for
the world.
55.
A drowned beauty lay in the pond.
Hands tied and mouth gagged.
No visible signs of struggle
--looking like she done it herself.
She lay there unmoving and unable to hear anything.
No hints of life chose to be around her.
Only serene water and leaves are her company.
I saw her under the branches,
while playing hide and seek.
Her eyes were closed,
as if deeply asleep.
Her hair was in-between
blonde and brunette
--without a touch of mud--
but it was the muddiest part of the pond.
It's possible that she was
freshly strangled and
dumped here.
56.
We were saying our farewells
on the doorsteps.
It was almost midnight and
the moon was over our heads.
Before looking into my eyes,
your hand lingered on my
shoulder.
My hands rubbed your hair to
which you responded
affectionately and deliberately.
Then, came the kiss
It was done slowly that
every second could be
savoured, and You
whispered, "I love you,"
so seductively in my ear.
I went inside the house and
watched as you left down
the steps, from the window
After I saw you take one
final look, I closed the
window.
57.
He gave me a bracelet made of bronze and fake crystals.
I more it on my wrist, But lost it the next hour.
He gave me earrings made of copper and ruby.
I wore them on my ears, But lost then the next day.
He gave me a necklace made of silver and garnet.
I wore it on my neck, But lost it the next week.
He gave me a ring made of gold and diamond.
I wore it on my humbling finger, But lost it the next month.
He gave me his love made of his emotions.
I wore it on my heart, But lost it the next year.
58.
It's upsetting to hear an appliance is taller.
I can't help my height.
There's not a drug out there that could change genetics
--I know.
I blame my stature on the genes I've received.
My age points out that this is all I'm getting for now and forever.
Height is one of those uncontrollable forces
like earthquakes and hurricanes,
that obviously no person can regulate.
Some people don't think of me as small, but smaller.
Unfortunately, smaller isn't good enough for me to consider myself
a comfortable distance between the floor and ceiling.
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