January 2010
32 posts
4 tags
i’m giving him the silent treatment.
i’m a spoiled brat, and not getting exactly what i want is against my religion. i place part of the blame on him; he’s been so adamant about always keeping me satiated in every way, and to now refuse me something? i cannot stand idly by and allow it.
so, the silent treatment.
he’s lying beside me on his back, long, strong, silent,...
4 tags
i’m annoying him. i sit here with my computer, fan blowing too hot, burning the tops of my bare thighs, and he sucks his teeth intermittently. he pulls at my underwear with his teeth. he kisses my arm and slips his fingers under the machine, between my thighs. he kisses my breasts through my shirt and looks up at me, blue eyes shining salaciously. i know what he wants, i have it, i...
5 tags
the gift.
thinking back, they were the most hideous shoes i’d ever seen. they were shaped like tortoises, black, with thick white soles and turquoise shoelaces, fuchsia lightning bolts etched on the sides. who in their right mind would have worn them is beyond me.
back then, they were the most amazing shoes i’d ever seen. mailed all the way from california, from my mom, for my birthday. it was the...
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i’m a screamer.
i don’t mean during sex, although that too, but from pain. my tolerance is high; i’m the girl the falls asleep during tattoos, laughs in the face of needles and tapering. but if it hurts, it hurts, and i scream. i moan, i gasp, i stutter, i curse. i sound like i’m enjoying it, i’m not sure why. those instinctual noises that escape me sound more like...
5 tags
max.
“are you married, poptart?” he asked.
“i’m only 18.” i answered.
“mmm, marry me?” he moaned, grabbing my thighs, causing me to stumble towards him, catching myself on his shoulders. he planted wet kisses along my abdomen, along the hem of my bikini bottoms. i laughed, and ran my fingers through his thick, white hair.
“i’m a bit young for you, don’t you think?” i whispered, picking his face up...
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embarrassed.
i was 12, and i loved him. i loved him so much, in that awkward stage between woman and child. my breasts had just started developing, and i was being noticed by boys for more than my curly hair and my big ears. it was a magical time in my life. i wanted him to the be the first one to touch them, see them. well, besides javier, but javier didn’t count – he groped them without permission in class...
4 tags
she was 13, newly. he was 26, not so much new. she wasn’t promiscuous, just flirtatious, unable to draw lines in her sand. he realized this, didn’t care. his intentions weren’t to corrupt her, or any student for that matter, but he couldn’t help himself. he’d only had eyes for women his own age, he wasn’t a pedophile. but this girl…
there was something...
5 tags
raised in the church by well meaning parents who were devout followers, her very existence was dominated by the words of an unseen, intangible presence she was ordered to believe in. she felt constrained, unable to make anything of the life that lay ahead of her. it seemed that by reason of a thick book of fables, she was fated to subsist.
sitting in the pews of a church with stained glass...
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it’s hot out, sweltering almost. he removes his helmet, his black hair sticks to his forehead. he licks his lips, squints at me under his lashes, smiles as he watches me walk toward him. he throws his leg over the side of his bike, kicks out the stand, meets me halfway. he’s shirtless, his skin sweating, tattoos glistening in the sun. wrapping one arm around my waist as we meet, squeezing my ass...
4 tags
i came, and came, and came. when it was over he collapsed beside me, held up an arm, inviting me into the nook. i nuzzled into him, feeling his sweat and stubble against my face, then his lips against my forehead. it stood out to me, these were things that happened between couples. we were not a couple, guys just don’t put you in their nook and kiss your forehead if they don’t care about you, at...
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he drove silently, music playing at a much lower volume than he preferred. i looked over at him from behind my shades and he looked back, giving me a half smile, pulling my left hand from between my thighs where i kept them when i was nervous or cold or upset. he twisted his fingers into mine, kissed my knuckles - each tattooed letter. i smiled, squeezed. he held my hand until we reached his...
4 tags
“i’m empty. i am empty. i’m empty. there is nothing. nothing but nothingness. i...”
3 tags
i speak to inanimate objects. sometimes we have conversations.
what are you doing in my bag of granny smiths, yellow apple? you are not green. you are not sour and delicious. you are yellow, and sweet, and disgusting. i say, holding the fruit up in front of me
the soft dimple on its face twists and contorts until a mouth has formed and the mouth opens, and the mouth speaks: i am green, i am not...
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morning after.
i awaken, surrounded by white. my body has been swallowed whole, within pillows and blankets, wrapped up in sheets. i feel an arm beneath my neck and and another draped over my waist. looking ahead, I see his fingers, thin and heavy knuckled, intertwined with my own. looking down I see tattoos covering the arm against my waist, that hand cupping my breast. i smile, start to stretch, my hips are...
2 tags
he was so pale, so much whiter than i’d expected. his hair and eyes, his features were dark, they contrasted against his skin sharply. except his lips – his lips were pink, and full, and lush. they were soft, and expressive, almost feminine. my own twitched and tingled when i thought of them meeting.
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he wraps one arm around my neck and hugs me close, kissing my hair and squeezing me. i reach up to hold his hand and we walk that way towards the house. the dogs lead the way and are already through their doggie door, waiting for us when we come into the kitchen. i toss them snacks from the cabinet and grab a coke. he swipes it from my hand and chugs half of it down before giving it back to me,...
5 tags
when i saw him i fell into his arms, sobbing.
he held me tightly and i buried my face in his shirt, mascara and nasal mucous rubbing off, on. i sobbed until my shoulders couldn’t hiccup anymore, so red, so swollen that i was too embarrassed to look up at him again. i stepped back and stared at my feet, wiping my face roughly with the sleeve of my hoodie. he stepped forward, close to me again,...
3 tags
i sat there, on my heels, on the couch in his hotel suite. i was nervous - i talk with lots of dramatic gestures when i am nervous. my hair kept getting caught under my arms, reminding me that i was flailing about like a monkey ever so often, and i’d swing my waves over to one side, usually my left, like tawny kitean in those whitesnake videos. i’d pin my hands to my thighs and try to...
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he has nothing to do, he sits in his recliner, a bag of stale doritos resting on his lap. he stuffs his mouth, crumbs fall onto his breasts, he doesn’t brush them off. he watches supernatural, envious at the excitement of the lives the winchesters lead. he wonders if the supernatural exists, decides that if it does he will never see it. he is boring, and lifeless, this man of wide girth and...
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there is a certain romanticism in dating a photographer. i am his muse. he is always taking my picture. the clickwhirr of his camera seizing is my alarm in the morning, my lullaby at night. he tells me that he can’t stop, i am lovely, he wants each nuance of my being, each twitch of an expression to be captured forever. how it is that me: curled up on the couch in a sweater, my hair piled...
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“i’ve realized, i do not bite your chin enough. as in love with it as i am,...”
– it’s no wonder my lover finds me to be quite odd.
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lying outside on the dew laden grass of her front lawn, she waits for the devil.
her thin white dress clings to her body, the humidity wrinkling it against her pink skin. she pulls it up to her breasts, exposing her underwear and abdomen. she fans her hair out around her, strawberry blonde waves shining like a sun. there is no breeze this day, and she is as still as the whispering willows...
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he wonders why i don’t want to kiss him in the rain.
i’m a woman, it should be on my bucket list he believes. it’s been raining a lot lately. my mother used to tell me rain was the tears of angels, crying when a puppy died. that’s why it rained right after gilles was struck by the car. there’s nothing romantic about rain or kissing in it. it makes me think of dead...
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she lies on her belly, diagonally, across her bed. the dj headphones she stole from her boyfriend are squeezing her ears, blaring journey so loudly she can’t hear her own fingertips clicking on the keyboard of her laptop.
she hums without realizing it, lost in steve perry’s encompassing voice, trying to formulate an email to her professor. tell him why she won’t be in class for...
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she’s so skinny it seems like a strong breeze would knock her over, a swift current would pull her out to sea. her face is gaunt, cheekbones high, and hair is stringy, packed with extensions and hairspray. teeth rotted from the back, whitened from the forward.
she’s perfect, snorting cocaine off the tops of urinals, getting her pussy fingered and eaten by strangers while she does it....
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she has sparrows tattooed on her shoulders: one dead, falling, with an arrow shot through it’s heart, one holding a bow in it’s small wings, like in her dream. she dreams in cartoons; all the scapes and people look like toontown, in roger rabbit. it was her favorite movie as a child, which possibly explains why that is so.
she sits naked on her couch, ‘indian style’ as her...
5 tags
no one knew what happened to my boy. there were dozens of people in sycamore park, everyone knew him, how could no one know where he had gone off to? how could so many people be so goddamn stupid and blind? if it were their child, they would remember more, they would think harder. not their son, just mine. not their problem, just mine. the police said everyone saw him playing fetch with toffee one...
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the sun woke me, shining through the crack in the curtains right into my eyes, burning through my lids. i covered my face with my forearm, forgetting he was there, smacking him in the nose with my fingers. he didn’t stir. i turned over to face him, i was wrapped in his arms. he slept with his lips parted but breathed through his nose, in, gently. the air he released was warm and smelled sweet. i...
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perfect boy 4 perfect girl.
outside, he was normal, his natural self hidden in plain sight. his hair was unkempt; his cowlick couldn’t be tamed although he tried, his glasses had vintage block frames, he hated shaving so he was usually scruffy. he had a tattoo below his elbow, a cuckoo clock, and he’d cried while getting it, from the pain. he’d went with his dad a few months before his dad died, matching...
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i sat at the bar, sticking my finger in my cranberry juice, and taking it back out to suck the flavor off. he had been watching me from the opposite end. when i looked over at him, expressionless, he didn’t play coy. he nodded at me, i went back to my drink. he waxed his eyebrows, i could tell, even from that distance. not my type.
my jeans were tight, they gapped when i sat down, enough to...
6 tags
he disappeared in july. the last anyone saw, he was running around sycamore park with his border collie, toffee. toffee showed up at home after the street lamps were on, clawing at the front door. without caleb.
every saturday at 11am, like clockwork, my mom used to go two doors down, to his mom’s house. she’d make me play outside. if i had to pee, i had to hold it, she’d tell...
3 tags
‘i want to fuck you like an animal.’
he says it, he means it. gathers my hair, twisting it around his wrist, pulling my body down harder, pushing himself in deeper. squeezes my throat and digs his nails into my ass, scratches my back. bites my wrists and forearms as i balance on his chest and moans. deep, gutteral moans full of passion and fire and pleasure and intensity. grinds his...