Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 830. Or, Thirty Third Street. Had I taken my stage directions from you, I'd be sitting stage left with my half smoked cigarette and a whiskey voice in my ear. I am not a vain woman, but I felt and saw the eyes on mine. I wondered if they knew we were only together for those few hours to laugh and I wondered if they knew how far away he was. The further away I get from him, the closer he wants, laying claim to my Friday nights, knowing I'm a slave to my own groans and scratches. Fuck you for pushing every button that's hidden. Honey, I'd stop all of this if I knew that the lines in our palms couldn't change and that we really were meant to be alone for another 5 years. I promised myself I wouldn't pass up hissing in my ears, and laughter in my throat for invisible people, no matter how hard I press the phone into my ear, it doesn't give off any heat. Jesus, they all have smiles stretching out across their faces and I can't look away from that. I'll go to bed and smear my own makeup, breath hard and legs twitching. I'll know why I'm so cold. I'll know exactly why you'd hold out on violating me... The pain of the want just makes it sweeter, doesn't it? 11:44 p.m. - 2004-02-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||