Friday, January 29, 2010

friday nights.

maybe we all just need to be alone for a little while.
really alone.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

camels die too fast

His is the giving sort of love, and mine the taking sort. Match made in heaven? Not so fast.


I refuse to explore. I find him completely mundane and endearingly ordinary. His room smells like he lives in it, the empty wine bottles stuffed with melting candles forced into them like he's some romantic fuck. He sits quietly, watching me retreat into myself, waiting for me to come out. He sits with his hands folded, like the patient man he is. He touches the many folds and layers of skin that wrap me up, trying to get to the chocolate underneath.

He has seen me cry, with shame and without, many times over. After a good movie, after a bad one, after sex, before dinner. He has watched my dark hair fall on my face as I hug my knees. He has watched the wars I fight with myself, he has seen me defeated. He hesitates to tell me stories I want to hear, yet he always knows how to make me laugh.

It makes him nervous when I watch him be. He averts his gaze, raises his eyebrows, distracts himself from these feelings that are entirely his own. He asks me questions, this one. My answer is pretty much always the same:
'I'm just thinking'.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

fingers and scent

you and i got something
but it's all and then it's nothing
to me.

Monday, January 25, 2010

so here we are

I need to make new love. start off fresh, with organic ingredients and a wooden stove.

I can hear the cigarette burning. I've never let it be so quiet to actually notice that before.

He kissed me, again and again, all over my newly old body. He inhaled and inhaled, like they were about to nail me into a coffin but his nose was large enough to store my scent in forever.

sorry, but my endings have become sloppy, like forced football matches. maybe something exciting will happen in the last 2 minutes of the game?
Only after I leave though.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

what does it feel like to be kissed by patience?

my breathing gets heavy, my hair falls out of place. my skin tingles with fascination that is foreign to my body. my eyes are half-closed, my lips are ready, heart in hand, ready to hand over.

i'm sneaking around this wet city, stealing kisses that were mine a long time ago. This city is not real, and I am living up to its expectations. It has many, albeit bittersweet.

I hate it when you sing, by the way. A writer, distressed in the dark, a musician, struggling with his out-of-key note. both ill-equipped where their voices are concerned.


there is no easy way out of this, and i will never admit to having an escape route till the fire of my flesh dies down.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

just like that

one day i was complaining to a (now ex) friend that i hadn't been writing as frequently as i wanted to. he told me he was glad to hear that. i asked him, why? he said 'because you only write when you're sad'.
many months and lots of blank pages later, i realized he was right.


It happened once, suddenly, in too many small-sized minutes, and large-stepped walking. it was cold, the cake the terrible, but it was a joyous occasion. he told her his preference, but that the choice was ultimately hers. she had the ability to laugh off things, you see, thus stalling time and necessary conversations. it was all about the moment, the short-term laughter, the instantly sleepless nights. cookies and candy. this or that.


he sits alone (not by choice, of course), caressing the spot where she once lay, his guitar making rhythms from his sorrows. he knows not when he'll see her again, that's just how things had been made, but he hopes it's soon. like, in the next 50 seconds. that would be nice. he would have a reason to shave again.

[while each is busy with their selves and then some, she disappears from rooms full of happy people. just like that.]

Saturday, January 16, 2010

wherever i am in the world,
i always just want to get out.

Monday, January 11, 2010

London

People, people, everywhere
not a face to drink.

Friday, January 08, 2010

this is in no way meant to mean something

writing writing writing, furiously. i was up at 4:30 am, tossed and turned for about an hour. and now it's 7:30 am. In my dreams, I'm running, or doing something, or constantly busy, so when i wake up i'm bone-tired and i think 'what's the fucking point, again?'

My new year's resolution has lasted a total of 7 days.

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

for hub IV/ sorry

found more stuff.
postcards, books, hand-written letters with the ink smudged and seeping into the crevices of the paper. a silver chain, an intricately-carved wooden box. words.
you are capable of feelings that i carry proof of.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

dirty injury

Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absentminded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly.

Let the lover be.

Friday, January 01, 2010

New Year's Resolution

As we grow up,
we learn that even the one person that wasn't ever supposed to let you down...
probably will.
You'll have you heart broken
and you'll break others' hearts.
You'll fight with your best friend
or maybe even fall in love with them,
and you'll cry because time is flying by.
So take too many pictures,
laugh too much,
forgive freely,
and love like you've never been hurt.
Life comes with no guarantess,
no time-outs,
no second chances.
You just have to live life to the fullest,
tell someone what they mean to you and tell someone off,
speak out,
dance in the pouring rain,
hold someone's hand,comfort a friend,
fall asleep watching the sun come up,
stay up late,be a flirt, and smile until your face hurts.
Don't be afraid to take chances or fall in love and most of all,
live in the moment.
Because every second you spend angry or upset is a second of happiness you can never get back.


author unknown.