i write...

Currently working on...

"A wise girl kisses but doesn't love,
listens but doesn't believe,
and leaves before she is left."

     Staring into the mirror she saw somebody who was beautiful.  If she hadn't believed so in the past, the many compliments and fawning looks she'd attracted from men and even women had spun her towards that truth.  Here, in the mirror she worked on perfecting that beauty; a glowing moisturizer, the right shade of eyeshadow and lipgloss.  She'd brush and style her hair till her chestnut locks seemed to glow even in the dimmest light.  How many nights had she sat here practicing and perfecting?  These days she had beauty down to such an art she surpassed it.  Elizabeth Stone did not just happen to be beautiful, she defined it.

     Tonight she would once more begin the ritual of pampering and putting herself together.  It didn't take a lot.  There was never bunches of caked on make-up, no tedious dye jobs for her hair.  She had always been beautiful, stunning actually, now she just worked to enhance it.  Tonight she would drape her body in a fine creamy silk dress.  With her long hair falling in perfectly persuaded waves that framed a heart shape face that glowed she looked like a modern day Aphrodite.  It pleased her to think that, and so when she saw her reflection in the mirror she smiled and twirled.  Aphrodite she was not, but if somebody thought she held those traits, she'd never amend their way of thinking.

edit::  i've worked a bit more on this, but i'm not posting it.  i think once i've gotten it all written i'll be doing a good deal of editing, and fixing it up.  i feel like the story idea i had is changing a bit as i go along so, i want to wait to do more till i have it all finished.

I don't want your suicide.

I promise you.  There'll be something worth reading soon enough.

But anyway, it's just garbage.

She clung onto the last word like an ironclad victory; unmistakable proof that she was better than me. Ranting and raving like a crazed person she kept on refusing to let it go, because she was better.  I could've dug into her like a crow picking at roadkill.  I could've let it get dirty and messy and mean.  I wanted to but I didn't.  I turned and walked away like it was nothing because she was nothing. 

fuck me.

i'm trying to be funny, and i'm not suceeding. 

i could tell you about the suicidal bunny that jumped in front of my tire, but bunnys are cute and when cute things die people cry.

i could tell you about creating a lesbian love song about stoplights,
but you'd think i was odd.

i could tell you about a dirty old man talking about "what's up."
but it might scare you.

no no no.
i have no funny bone.

In the Middle of Mayhem

I might've been an angel once
but i had to fall to get to here;
and ever since i've been walking
along dirt roads and dodging sticks;
and casting my own stones.
Emotions are stirring; and
a storm is brewing-
it's a story so old even a fool
(like me) should've known.
i thought i'd captured love
but my heart turned up empty;
and thats where love's supposed to go.

Everyday might break me,
if i hadn't already broken,
and i don't know if i'm mending,
or just hiding the holes.
I thought i'd hidden from the chaos,
I thought i'd gotten away.
but these roads must be going in circles
because i've done this before,
I've felt these fears and i've cried these tears.
I'm caught up in this mess,
voices are screaming in my head.
How do I get away from here?

I am but a tree. [CW #71]

Once upon a time we were many,
an emerald colored wave
washing across the earth.
We stretched far and wide,
and we were strong.
For many years we were home,
to creatures small and large.
We were shade to weary travelers,
a hideout to those running.