in my backyard

It's not as if i wanted to get married.
Or have your babies.
Or spend the rest of our lives together.
Or be soul mates.
Or die in each others arms.
Or anything like that.

I just thought you were really nice, and I thought we might be nice.

That's all.
Honest.

x

contagious,

Fingers fat and sluggish with this pent up motion, yet somehow words spill with a deft neatness from the pen's tip.
The gleaming strand which connects mind to paper, once taken for granted, now decrees an almost holy reverence when it arrives; indecipherable with sheer possibility.
Mind moving at the speed of light as ideas are conceived, pondered and sorted in miliseconds. Words flow as blood through arteries, and the world slows as they leak from the wound.

you go back to her and i go back to us.

Whipped into a frenzy of desire by your unbridled indifference.
A swirling hurricane of contradictions and oxymorons.
We dance, two lovers; forever swapping roles, trading places. Never agreeing upon anything, always wishing for something and still we remain locked together, unable to escape.

my friends are nicer to me than you are.
maybe i'll go all lesbian just to see how you react.

thanks,

for this one thing.






I am writing again.

no sweetheart in the dark to call my own

A sleep like a coma at the scene of my self-destruction.

Here is my deepest secret and darkest fear: my life is meaningless.
I do nothing.
Always looking for tomorrow, my present sits discarded in a corner; dangerously gathering dust until its imminent explosion when I regret all of my yesterdays.

I admire their dedication and wish so hard I could imitate it.
My head and body pound with a thousand words. Emotion clogs my arteries and I forget to breathe.