oh, this old thing?

there she sits,
the loveliest creature
in the room.
those luscious lips
bloody red and swollen
from last night's argument.
her eyes are done up
in the most perfect purple-green
from his fists,
her cheeks a rosy pink
from his open palm.
this beautiful battered angel
whose tear-stained eyes call to me,
save me, help me
take me away.
little does she know
the beauty i find in her,
that heated passionate grace.
i would only do worse.

i love finding things from the way-back machine

the new emo

this is my attempt at trying the darker side of poetry when i'm not actually depressed.

look in the mirror.
who do you see?
is it the smiling face
and rosy cheeks of a sweet innocent?
or am i the fickle
wicked monster who steals and destroys love?
am i the caring woman
that everyone adores?
or the worship-hungry goddess
who demands another sacrifice?
watch me grin with sharp malice
as i tear the emotion and strength of heart
from every idiot who has fallen
as my prey.
and then as i lean over the souless left-overs,
crying with repentance
and screaming with revulsion.
_____________________________________

this little girl crouches on the cold tile
balled up as tight as she can go,
curled around red knuckles
from futile, panicked flailing
as the gash across her cheek
slowly drips blood onto her scraped, knobby knees.
her quick, shallow breaths are her only focus,
keep from being noticed
here in the shadowed corner.
she makes herself as small
as the dust bunnies that keep her company,
eyes scrunched closed
as she tries to ascend beyond the bruises and scrapes
of her tiny, bony figure,
as she whispers in weak voice
a prayer for death to come.
________________________________________

if she keeps them all safe,
locks herself in a cage,
then no one will suffer
or hurt her with rage.
but through the cold bars
she might start to cry,
and exiled and lonely
wish she could die.
through lack of all contact
she prevents pain,
but all by her lonesome
she might go insane.
no one can deal
with complete ilosation,
so she'll find a solution
of her own creation.
she'll scream and she'll cry,
and after that flood,
she'll warm these cold bars
with the heat of her blood.

hmm... still not very good. but it's a start

what's this?

college is an odd experience. i am finding out who i am and who my friends are, and what i can do. staying away from the party life, i prefer to drink with people i trust, and i'd rather avoid date rape. my hand is still in a splint, but i find that being unable to perform simple tasks is a great character-building experience. i can't open bottles very well and i have a hard time carrying things or puttingon a seatbelt. having never been gimped before in my life for more than a few days, 6 weekd in a splint has been interesting. i can type okay, so class work has been possible, and i have found a family down here to take care of me when i let them. trigger is a great guy, i love it when he comes down here and i love how much he loves me. i told him that when i got the splint off, i would wear the ring he got me as a present a while ago instead of the fake diamond i baught for myself, and his only response was that i would probably have another ring entirely to wear. my mother loves him. i don't think my mother has loved anyone except maybe my friend/sister and her beautiful daughter, but my mom hugged him goodbye when they left to go home on monday. i love him, and i look forward to a life down here with my new fiance and my new family. i wish i could say that there were many people i will miss, but it's pretty much just sis and niece. and i know that i will see them at the very least at the wedding.

i may have found happiness, and certainly calm and contentment in a new life with fewer walls.

here's to all of the people who have grown beyond their pasts and made a life for themselves.

what am i?

we have been talking of engagement, and marriage, though a long way off. but now i'm not so sure. i love him, i adore him and i know that he's crazy about me. but looking back on all of the pain that i have cause others and that others have caused me, this seems wrong.
aaron hurt me physically and emotionally. i did nothing to stop it.
ilana was devastated to the point of eating disorder after we broke up. did i do this to her?
cheryl was a bit messed up to begin with, but not a bad person, and i hurt her so many times in so many ways without trying to.
jon was such a good guy before we dated. he had a sense of humor and laughed a lot. he was happy. then we broke up. i'm not sure if it's that he fell so in love with me that our break up did this to him, or if it was something else i did, but either way he had become so closed and damaged that he has now resorted to alcohol. is this my fault?
chalk the "self-mutilation-on-my-account" tally up to three
travis was simply an ass. but he taught me that i can't trust people. he showed me that there's a lie behind every promise and malice in every caress. he made me careful but jaded. tally goes up to four, the emo twat.
tim/tiff could have been cruel to me, angry for my actions, but they forgave me. so i guess there is good in people.
adam was something else. i truly did love him, but in the end that really didn't matter. he also taught me to harden my heart. but at least i didn't hurt him that bad.
dessi showed me even more about lies.

and now adam. the sweet, wonderful guy who has seen above the lies and bullshit and drama into what's really important in life, the one who drove 5 1/2 hours yesterday through a blizzard to see me because he loves me. but what if i can't do this? he says he would rather care for me and lose me than not have me at all, but can i really sacrifice him for my happiness? what if i hurt him and turn him into a bad or permanently traumatized person too? what if i'm not capable of love the way they all mean? what if i really am the monster i think i might be?

me. always me.

ihop romance

he and i met months ago at denny's, i upended my drink in his lap. they still serve me in a sippy cup. we started talking at a party. he was drunk when i got there, i caught up quick. we got along, made each other laugh, and could talk for hours without realizing it. we started hanging out a ihop together frequently.

i came back from the bathroom
so he asked me if we were dating.

really, what did you say?

i said i didn't know, i didn't think so. not yet

oh. well, how do we get from where we are to there?

i believe i ask you "will you go out with me" and you say "yes"

ah.

so, i'll ask. will you go out with me?

of course!
we kissed


i am so happy with him. last night, we drove for hours, talking about everything from exes and sex to drug history to likes and dislikes to families and jobs. it's great.

*redefining 10 every day*

the list

well folks, the list is actually up to sixteen!
(this is mostly for my own records)

mike b.
anna r.
wade c.
ilana g.
jon b.
chris h.
nick k.
travis c.
tim v.
tiffany
adam w.
tony s.
david p.
aaron w.
mike s.
steven p.
adam g.

that's a lot of people!!
hoorah?

us monsters

i find it interesting that i know of two people like me, who at some point in their relationship honestly no longer give a damn about their significant other. sometimes this leads to break up, other times it just leads to a horribly unsatisfying relationship.
careful thought a while ago made me realize that while i was very happy with quite a few of my exes, i actually loved very few of them. alex was of course my first true love and i will never forget him or get over him.
funny, most of the ones that heard the words "i love you" were being lied to, whether i realized it or not. the only recent one i probably truly loved was adam, and even then not at the time when i said it. if he ever grows up, he'll make some lucky woman an excellent husband. i really do wish the best for him, including a wife that won't cheat on him again and again, stable employment, and the mentality befiting a man of his age.

perhaps the reason i can't love them is because i collect them like stray cats and i feel i have to fix or care for most of them. ever-destined to be the mother.

well, here's to us heartless bastards; us monsters have to stick together.
i love you wade and aj, maybe we'll figure it out one of these days.

cali

the conversation went a little something like this:

- i just quit my job, and i'm thinking about leaving.
- where would you go, and when?
- cali, and now.
- god, i wish i could do that. but i don't have a car, and my father would report his stolen if i left with it.
- i would take you. do you want to go?
- now?
- right now.

i got into the car that night to go home crying because it took everything i had to say no.
my parents are terrified that i'm going to cut and run. hell, i'm terrified that i'm gonna take off at some 3am. so it would appear that I'M OFF TO MISSOURI FOR A WEEK!!! hoorah!
my mother and i are driving south, because it's warmer there, and our tentative destination is scott valley ranch.
i want to pick sharp smelling leaves off of the tree branches from horseback.
i want to see the sunrise over the rock quarry.
i want to flirt with the many attractive wranglers they always have.
and damn it, i want to air-dry my freshly painted toenails out the car window on the highway!!

it's gonna be crazy, folks.

*i have sat on the back of a bus for days and drank red wine with purple lips*
live for the moment, 'cause you'll never have it back

here's to you, momma.

story time, kiddies

for those of you still present and awake, don't feel the need to respond to this. i'm really just venting because sometimes life hurts.

he asked me to come to his house, something i had never thought about before, and even though it was an hour away, i said yes. i only got lost once, and make it there with plenty of time to hang out. i was expecting movie, maybe a walk, catching up on what has happened since october. he was expecting more. that didn't really bother me, especially since most nights up at ihop have been spent discussing bondage, s&m, or just old fashioned tieing up. i was curious, and i trusted him so i figured he would be perfect to show me the ropes.
we talked about what wasn't okay, and everything i mentioned he stayed away from, but apparently there was a whole new world of not-okay that i didn't know about before that. he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me around, made me give him head and shoved it so far down my throat that my diaphragm still hurts from gagging almost a week later. slapped and smacked me, then choked me, threw me around and just generally fucked me so hard with everything but his dick (he doesn't believe in having sex, he has a girlfriend) that i was almost crying from pain most of the way home.
i'm still not sure how i made it home, i don't remember anything but calling my best friend and freaking out a bit.
i could have said stop, no, that hurts, anything. but i didn't. i moaned and gave him every impression that i was enjoying myself because that's what i do. and because i wanted to play the game that way that it is supposed to be played and then analyze later.

analysis:
- my head hurt
- my throat and stomach still hurt
- my pride is in pieces, along with my self-respect
- the bruises are starting to heal, so that's good
- i still feel as though, despite all evidence to the contrary, i have been raped (i just don't really blame him for it)

never doing that again.

poetry

your little affection doll,
the bruised-broken puppet
with the painted on smile of the most
luscious red you've ever seen.
pull my strings
and i'll dance for you,
this way and that
along with your whims,
so that you can watch my heart spill out
through my bleeding chest
and on to your just-cleaned floor.
i'm your yielding body
with no spine
and such wonderfully malleable flesh.
i can take as much as you can give,
soak up all the love and punishment
and hold in everything that you will pour out,
until you're just and broken
and empty as me,
with the black-hole eyes
and naked bindings
of a used and discarded marionette.

goddess of all things temporal,
i can make you forget
your love, your past
as your pour your bleeding heart out
to slake my thirst.
i will watch as you
empty yourself of everything worthwhile
to give me all you have,
taken as my dues for making you
a ten minute god.

lots of new stuff, people met and people lost. still floating along in work and at ihop.
when i say good night to the manager, it's sad because she says "see you tomorrow", and she's right; i'm always there.

i have seen the sunrise and it was pretty
i have seen the sun set and it was beautiful
i have watched the moonrise and it is captivating
i have watched the moon set and it saddens me.

chicago

late nights spent
breathing on unison
moving in concert
stroking with all the
desperation
of empassioned lovers
and
early mornings spent
sighing together
chests rising and falling
in unison
shifting in concert
and running our hands
finger be finger
along a back, a chest
a stubbly cheek
with all the comfort
of two people
in love.

as the days drift by
slowly,
blurring together
i think i'm falling into a sea of apathy.

i have a hard time remembering what day it is these days. my only reminder is my meds, and sometimes my work schedule. graduating really fucked my social and temporal equilibrium. the bastards are making life hard even after i have left!

and i seem to be writing bad poetry. oh crap! i've gone emo!
someone please put me out of my misery!!!
(way too much sugar and sex)

i really do miss the time and inspiration i used to have to write. i'm happy now, being with dessi, but being happy has killed my ability to write well. i'm glad about the current situation, but i wish i could put out the stuff i used to, i think i was really good.
i guess i just have to resolve to set aside time to sit down and write, and hope something good comes out.

me

normal life, happy times

feeling terrible.
mononucleosis is a virus, commonly known as the kissing virus. it is usually transmitted by saliva. once you get it, it never leaves your system. your symptoms go away, but it stays in your nervous system, and every once in a while you become contagious. there is no way to tell when short of a blood test.
i got mono about a year and a half ago. now dessi has it, badly. i feel bad because it is hell for him. i worry about him, because he is sick and hurting and on pretnazone, a steroid that makes you hell to be around and makes you crazy and sad and horny and want to cry. he is also cutting down on smoking, which makes the whole situation even harder for him to deal with.
i play nurse when i can get down to chicago, making/getting him food and drink and talking with him and keeping him occupied. but the only thing that will make him better is time.
we will get through this, but until we do he can't drink or fuck or fight or smoke and i know it's hard for him.
i don't mind taking care of him; i love him and i'm glad that i can help.
i just wish he wasn't going through this.

at krink's house, have a surprise for dessi the next time i see him... (hehehe)

facets or faces

we are many things for many different people.
for amanda i am a bad-ass, i would take care of anything
for my parents i am the scholar
for many people i am the mother
for dessi i am, simply me

but what i want to know is, in the early hours of the morning, when everyone is asleep and the moonlight shines in on the mirror, what are you for you?

simply put, i don't know yet...

emotions... interesting

so, mayhaps the demons of my past have decided to find more willing prey. i don't know, but i'm releived not to have found any more foliage on the front porch.
new guy, one who doesn't need me to be his income supply, or his sex toy (although i'm more than willing, but it's a two-way thing), or his entertainment, or his keeper. he seems to be considering making nice with his old friend. you know, the kind that sucks your will to live? that would be interesting, i don't play well with those who have fucked me over. angel found that out quickly enough. *chuckle*
not the point, on to happier things.

drifting contentedly on the streams
of steady jobs and frequent phone calls.
complacent water but for the few ripples,
smoothed over by the murmurs of affection.
nights spent in happiness, with my everything,
passion like no other,
breathtaking, giving,
loving.
and later, with his arm under my shoulder
and one around my waist,
staring, drifting, floating
in those eyes,
the closeness of skin on skin,
and the feel of his heart beating
against my bare chest.

life is good right now, and that's all i can ask for.

the true, the emotional, and the dark (hehehe)

(for dessi)

those chocolate brown eyes
like glass-paned windows
streaked with misery
looking down into the
tortured soul
of a soldier angel.
that wry grin,
the most painful mask
for a bleeding heart
but sometimes i see a real smile
shining through
just for me.
that muscled body,
back and shoulders
flexing in time
to a lover's rythym
softly, tenderly
wild and passionate.
my prince, my king
my god of love,
my everything.

(for everyone who never wanted me as i am)

please let me be your
everything
your anything,
whatever you
want
need
wish
like
lust
for me to be.
please let me be
your doormat
your goddess
your punching bag
your whore
your entertainment.
please give me
a task
a role to play for you
define me so that i may be
the me that you love.

there is nothing left
of me,
only overlaid
shadows,
faded prints
of the portraits
you have painted
in my place;
as your desire.

- me, still me, ALWAYS me.