November 2011
1 post
8 tags
It's not you; it's me.
we haven’t spoken in a while. that’s normal for us, but different this time. the silence is so loud. it’s heavy. i’ve been keeping busy; being alone with my thoughts has been troublesome these past few days. i miss you. i miss you because you’re not there. you’re not waiting. i want to talk to you so badly, not to reconcile, or hash anything out, but to...
August 2011
2 posts
8 tags
Weed always made Giselle…friskier than she usually was. It lowered her inhibitions, and she loved it. After she returned from the kitchen with beers for the boys and handed Charlie his, instead of returning to her place on the floor between Nic’s feet, she settled down on his lap, her breasts in his face while she opened the beer behind his head. He kissed her cleavage, lightly, and looked...
3 tags
because he writes me love letters: lustful and vivid love letters that are almost angry and violent in their intensity. because he leaves them everywhere: between the pages of whatever book i’m reading; inside my pillow case; in the cigar box that holds my jewelry; pinned to my bath towel; between the cushions of the couch.
because he speaks to me in obscure movie quotes and kisses me...
June 2011
4 posts
3 tags
he has me hemmed up beside my car. i don’t have enough space to slide away from him without us touching, that’s what he’s after. call me when you leave his place he whispers. i smirk; i tell him no.
it’s been so long. he’s inching even closer to me, breathing on me. that used to do something for me — to me. no longer. he doesn’t see how pathetic he is to...
3 tags
because when I don’t have work to do or classes to take I lie around naked watching silent films on Netflix instant, eating Tostitos and drinking ginger ale. or dance around in pajamas to music made before i was born, sucking chocolate off of my fingertips. either way, i need a man that can find the beauty in it.
don’t try to prop me up in pumps and drag me out through cigarette...
2 tags
because there is only so close i’ll allow myself to get before i panic before i’m too close for my own comfort and i back away. turn and run. is there anything more terrifying than intimacy? relinquishing power over your heart is… brave. more brave than i am able to be.
1 tag
for a while it was delicious to kiss him through his tears. his lips would tremble pitifully beneath mine; his fingers would grasp so tightly at me, searching for the invisible tether that could keep me from leaving. and i would smile.
it felt good, to be the emotionally sadistic one this time. it was how i healed: feeding off of his misery. a succubus, role switching in this new...
April 2011
2 posts
2 tags
i stand in my yard watching the weather turn. it’s only drizzling but the clouds are dark and thick and the sky between is a swirl of green and gray and purple, like a fading bruise. the wind blows so loud, deep and rumbling like an extended burst of thunder. leaves blow sideways, gravel stirs and smacks my legs. and i just stand there.
i’ve been this way since childhood. many times i...
3 tags
before the first date.
i open the door. the sight of him knocks the wind out of me. his blonde hair is not ruffled and wild like the day we met; it’s slicked into a side parted pompadour, razored close on the sides. the beard is gone; he must have shaved a day or so ago, there’s only stubble covering his hard, angled jaw.
he wears a sharp white button up - sleeves folded up to the elbows, a thin black tie,...
March 2011
3 posts
6 tags
goddamn,
when you touch me.
you know when you’re in the shower, and you’re standing directly under the stream, and you lean your head to the side just a little and the water runs down your ear, down your neck, down your back, over your chest? it sort of beats in that particular spot above your clavicle in just a way that’s as titillating as it is soothing, and the warmth of the water...
3 tags
2 tags
he bruises me in the best of ways. too tight a hold on my wrist; too firm a bite on my thigh. i grasp at his pecs, my fingers leaving trails of subtle white into violent pink on his skin, little paths in his chest hair.
i miss him, him touching me, him bruising me.
February 2011
4 posts
1 tag
there is nothing i hate more than being ignored.
5 tags
there came a point at which i was just done.
i was done.
for so long it’d always seemed worth it. even if i couldn’t explain what exactly was worth anything, i felt it. down in my soul, in the depths of my very being, i had to have him, be his. sure, after some fights i’d yell that i was finished with it; nod in agreement with everyone that told me i was better off.
then…i’d go back. i’d follow my heart. or perhaps it’s better to say that...
Anonymous asked: You're brilliant. Your writing is exquisite and original. I'm glad you can claim the title of an author as one that everybody will know clearly that it is you and not just another, non-creative author. You're your own genre
i can feel someone standing behind me as i’m hovering over my phone, contemplating physics.
“who loves batman enough to get a tattoo of him?” a man asks.
“me, obviously.” i reply without looking up, continue playing angry birds.
January 2011
1 post
3 tags
our life paralleled pretty woman in the beginning. hooker; businessman; money; unexpected love right down to his quiet adulation as i giggled on his floor watching television. it didn’t last. i don’t know if i ever expected it to. i was never naive enough to think love was all you needed. wrong, Lennon & McCartney.
but i did love him, he loved me. volatile and passionate and...
December 2010
2 posts
3 tags
he slapped me across the face, so hard that i stumbled backwards into the wall. my cheek burned with pain, my eyes with tears. his face fell with remorse but he steeled his jaw and said “fuck you.”
he left.
i sank to the floor, buried my face in my hands, sobbed. i sobbed until my back ached from heaving, my head pounded, my mouth was filled with saline and mucous.
he came back.
...
4 tags
he’s on the floor in front of the television, playing atari games like a little boy, while i watch Out of The Past on my laptop in the bed. retro, in our different ways. he’s my own personal anti hero, scowling and up to no good like the best of my favorite film noir leading men. i’m his jill valentine, he says.
we’ve both been so busy lately; this is the first day...
November 2010
3 posts
2 tags
he was incomplete; no scars, no facial hair. his shoulders were held back even as he relaxed on the couch. he was incredibly attractive, high cheekbones, eyes the color of a bottle of vanilla extract: brown, dark brown, but with this subtle amber sheen in the right light.
he kissed me, soft full lips expertly twisting into shapes around mine that turned my knees to jelly, working down to my...
4 tags
I love men. I mean, I really love men. I love the way they smell, I love the way they taste. I love the veins in their forearms and the hair on their chests. I love the feel of their scruffy faces and lightly calloused hands against yours. I love the dimples in their backs, the muscles bustling under the skin. I love their tattoos and their freckles and their scars. I love their height and their...
7 tags
i had lost him and every time i thought about it my stomach would lurch and i’d find it hard to breathe and an ache - an actual, not just literal, ache - would form in my chest, so severe that i would clutch at my breasts and whimper into the pillows of the bed i refused to leave. i’d writhe around in the sheets, hoping that if wrestled myself under them far enough maybe i’d find...
October 2010
4 posts
3 tags
tucked away in the corner of town is my great uncle’s old house. he’d lived in it since the day he was born. he’s dead now; he was schizophrenic. my great aunt - his older sister - said he came back from the war like that. apparently he’d been fine before. anyway, he went particularly nuts one night and jumped out of a three story window thinking something was after him. a...
4 tags
he handed me a piece of yellow paper when he saw me. it’d been folded over so many times it looked ready to explode. on it he’d scribbled down the lyrics to you are my sunshine. i smiled.
years later, i came across it in a box at the back of my closet. i’d forgotten he was capable of such sweet things. i smiled again, dropped it in the trashcan. it was no longer something i...
1 tag
still sunny and bright out, all the clouds in the sky fluffy and white, rain started to pour: drops so thick and hard it almost felt like sleet. i dashed into a coffee shop i’d had no prior intention of visiting: i don’t drink coffee, or eat scones, or like to work on indefinitely incomplete novels in public.
i wiped my shoes on the large mat, letting the door clang loudly behind me,...
2 tags
i’m screaming, i didn’t realize it. he’s fucking me so hard it’s painful; i love it. “i’ve missed you” he groans, his voice resonating through me. i try to tell him that i missed him too but my voice cracks and i only manage a pitiful whimper. he laughs, lightly, squeezes my sides. “i’ve missed your pussy. so fucking tight. i’ve missed...
3 tags
i sit on the steps of our back patio, blunt between my fingers, bare legs crossed at the knees. i watch the dogs sprint across the acre of grass, weaving between columns of pine and oak, pecan and walnut. the sky is pink and purple; heavy with fluffy white clouds and deep sunlight; it’s dusk and it feels as if the world is settling down with a book and warm glass of milk.
the screen door...
September 2010
6 posts
3 tags
lying in bed, feet trapped in a tangle of sheets, his arms around my neck and waist, his mouth breathing softly against my ear, my lips pressed against his forearm, the soft sun bleached hairs tickling my nose: i am completely fulfilled. i want his warmth against me always, i freeze when his body parts from mine.
my love for him floats on the air around me; colors my sky; envelops me in every...
3 tags
i sat of the edge on the dingy bed, wrapped in a dingy towel, and looked around the dingy hotel room. i’d stayed here once before, before Day Zero. it’d been a really nice place: swanky, five hundred bucks a night for a room the size of a tin of wet cat food and a fluffy to wear that they charged you eighty dollars for if you tried to steal. you’d never know that now with the...
the house smells like chili. no beans, he’s from texas: beans in chili is sacrilege to people from texas. he is on the floor, leaning against the couch, crossed legs like a yogi, the dog’s head on his knee. he’s reading, like always. always, his face is buried somewhere in me, or a book. he looks up at me and winks, the only man i’ve ever met that can pull if off...
2 tags
i’m on my knees and elbows, head resting on my forearm. he has me spread open, licking me, sucking and tasting. i bite the inside of my elbow, try to muffle my own screams but it’s in vain. i can’t help myself. we’re only in this position for a few minutes before i’m moaning his name and shuddering, my body wanting to collapse, but he slides his hands from my ass to...
3 tags
her skin was tight with dehydration, pulled thin and taut and shiny over her bones, which jutted out at awkward angles from everywhere, all over her body. the white gossamer gown exaggerated how much weight she had lost, settled into the gap between her narrow thighs, sank into her concave abdomen. it was hard to believe it’d only been a couple of months since i’d seen her last....
August 2010
2 posts
4 tags
i’m starving. not sure why, i just ate lunch a few hours ago. i’m standing in front of the open refrigerator, mouth twisted up in concentration. i decide on a green apple but before i can get it he smacks me on the ass. hard. i turn around and frown at him, unconvincingly - i love it when he does that and he knows it.
“why are you wearing so many fucking clothes” he asks,...
5 tags
'ello, maggie!
i’m squirming. i’m trying not to, but it’s involuntarily.
he forces his hand between her legs; i cross and uncross my own. he chews his gum, ask her if she likes it hard; i clench my thighs together. cross them again. he pulls her by her hair from the bath, throws her into the hall; my heart is beating so fast i think it’s going to explode.
out of my peripheral vision...
July 2010
8 posts
3 tags
tyler durden; getting laid
he pulls the collar of my shirt down, exposing my shoulder. tilts my head, bites my neck, flicks his tongue lightly over me. leaning back, hips still tilted forward into my stomach, he traces his fingertips over the words needled into the thin skin across my clavicle.
“what’s this say?” he asks softly.
“only after disaster can we be resurrected.” i answer and he...
2 tags
he turned the knob slowly, pushing the door open slightly, allowing just a narrow ribbon of light to pierce the darkness of their bedroom. she was completely consumed in the covers, only her long black hair fanned across the pillow exposed. he slid into the room, folding his lips together as he concentrated on closing the door silently behind him.
feeling his way through the dark, he sat on the...
1 tag
we're on the couch.
i can’t reach the remote on the coffee table. he’s asleep on his stomach, his head on my lap, his cheek stuck to my inner thigh, his fingers tucked underneath my legs. they twitch as he dreams. he breathes softly, warm against my skin. his eyelashes are long, supple. they flutter against his cheeks. the movie has stopped playing, the television recycles the animation of the options...
1 tag
it’s raining, windows are open. drops gather, glisten in the spaces of the screen. soft darkness fills the room, thunder rumbles in the distance. i wish there was a weeping willow in my yard. i’ve always loved them, bending but not breaking beautifully under some perceived but nonexistent weight. they remind me of myself, especially right now.
i’m lonely, but not in the mood for...
3 tags
when we met he told me that he was very important, that he had many leather bound books and his apartment smelled of rich mahogany. i laughed, said “alright, ron.” he told me later that it was a test, that no girl that didn’t get the joke could ever be the one for him. i’m glad i passed.
2 tags
waiting for my train.
i flatten skittles between my fingers, nibble off the candy shell pieces embedded in my fingerprints, suck off the color stains. i feel eyes on me, look to my left. there’s a man there watching me, intently. a very average looking man, a forgettable man with bland blonde hair, peachy skin, not of a remarkable height or build.
but there is a hunger in his glassy eyes that i’ll never...
2 tags
for months i’d avoided the mirror. every glimpse of my shimmering reflection in a store window brought back memories of his jeers. his insults were constant, inescapable. they muted the praise of others, rang over any rare instances of self appreciation. i had so much pride before him and no idea how to get it back.
2 tags
i sank into the soft couch cushions and they enveloped me almost completely. i held my knees together, hiding what my too short dress might reveal if i didn’t. i was deathly bored, fidgety. i ran my hand across the freshly shorn side of my head, twisted my fingers in the long curls on the other, fiddled with the rim of my red plastic cup, pulled on my septum jewelry, pressed my lips...
June 2010
2 posts
3 tags
i tired of him making fun of my whitesnake obsession, so i danced for him like tawny kitaen: white dress, wild hair. he stared at me, eyes wide, lips parted and smiling. after the song ended he pulled me down onto his lap. i freed him of his jeans, touched his mouth with my fingertip, kissed the bridge of his nose. he lifted me up with one arm around my waist, entered me, pulled me back down....
1 tag
there’s a tenderness to his touch that wasn’t there yesterday. maybe he senses the distance between us: the fresh length of who i am from who he is. he stands behind me, close, lips pressed into the tender flesh behind my ear. i love you so much he whispers, kissing my stretched lobe and sighing deeply.
i don’t reply.
May 2010
7 posts
3 tags
i ran into a tree when i was seven. it’s alright, you can laugh. i do too when i think about it.
i was running about the yard with my german shepherd on my heels, turned to see how much she’d gained on me and the second i righted myself my forehead slammed into a young pine so hard that flakes of bark had to be removed from my face with tweezers. knocked me out cold, but only for a...
3 tags
he pushed the coffee table up against the couch...
3 tags
i called my friend to tell her i was considering ditching my trip to new york and trekking over to san francisco instead. she squealed, and as we reminisced over my last visit she reminded me of the most odd and amusing occurrence:
we were walking back to my hotel from some random club, me holding her arm as she was drunk and unable to stay upright for more than a few steps at a time without my...
2 tags
my needs are simple. i need for you to fuck me like you hate me tonight, but love and respect me in the morning. i want your handprint outlined red and swollen on my ass, your kiss soft and delicate on my cheek. pull my hair, kiss my ear. scratch my back, hold my waist. simple.
give me that; i am satiated.
1 tag
there is something about the loss of a friend that burns deeper - cuts farther - than the loss of any boy ever could. it could be just me, how wary i am of social interaction, how rare it is that i will offer a stranger anything but the obligatory passing half smile: when i open myself up to you, when i fall in love with you and you with me, when i tell you my secrets, when i lean on you for...
6 tags
my chest fills, with emptiness. miss the feel of your beard scratching against my collar bone. replace it with someone else’s. postpone the dull ache of loss. or hug my pillow. fuck myself to sleep. pretend i’ll see you in the morning, blue eyes bright and flashing.
our futures no longer intertwined in my imagination; every thing is dead tonight. the crickets sing anyway.