I say "you" like you're there, like you're nusteer or ems or someone else who has been quietly lurking or that I wish they were quietly lurking.
I always do that, don't I? Walking away and then coming back to you when I really need you, when there's no where else.
My kitten just sat in the open window through a hail storm and I love him for it.
Here at this house we are losing our minds. All three of us physically ill and lonely.
Angry, betrayed. We thought we were building a life, we thought that the flowers we planted were flowers we could watch bloom but I'm just going to be turning them into the dirt like the blooms had passed their glory days already and were rotting brown against the dirt.
The paint on the wall still peels away instead of singing with the fresh paint fresh that gives me migraines.
These windows stay naked and watch from the outside at night.
Bardo Pond, The Melvins, loud noises and movies in which the woman dies to atone.
These are the things dragging me forward now.
If you can make us cry...
They said, "we didn't know you had real feelings but you were crying." I said, I want you to think of it more as my anger leaking out of my face.
I'm rubbing my eyes trying to get the dullness out but it stays.
But it stays.
On myspace, they ask "do you trust other people easily" and last week I would have thought, well... it gets easier every day. I have been letting people in and have new friends and
"the ground will be soaked through with blood and from the tops of the black towers of hate and the word vengeance will ring clear like the bell toll at the last hour.
I wish I could have a show.
Hang words in a gallery with jugs of cheap wine and plastic cups.
And people could marvel at the words, whisper ... "oh this is her dark period, this kerning is so intense here, see how she uses "black" and "tower" next to each other,
to call to mind the smoldering remains of the orcs?
the show would look like this:
the ground will
VENGEANCEwill ring clear
the bell toll