Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fuck Short Descriptions. Eeeeeeeh. I have strangled my fingers, the time change hasn't fucked with me, staying up to this god awful hour, playing chess with boys who beat me. No one is awake, even the cat is napping on the hallway rug, I've been sitting here for days, waiting for a hand to reach through the screen and shake me awake. [cigarette.] {half.} Of all that I've given, all that's been taken from me, and there's still more to take. I don't know where this under ground spring starts, or how I fill back up, but you fuckers keep looking at me. There's enough cock between us now, you should feel comfortable in the shoes, you walked out on me. There's not enough finger banging going on to lessen my jealous nature, my eyes are green, or did you forget, I even gave you my hair, three years of it. But, what the fuck does it matter, I'm still laying low, you can't get me here, unless you count this as here, and it's not. You can't get me here, in my ears or my mouth, I'm still safe from a commitment, from chains, from protective natures, from guilt and your bullshit duty. Yes, fuck you for pushing play on the juke box, and making you come in looking for comfort, leave again, looking to the left and the right, pushing it into a whole track, to the brink of violating my laziness. You think this can't get any lower. Wait until someone turns your anger into shame. [To think, I loved you once.] 12:05 a.m. - 2003-10-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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