Les secrets dans la chambre à coucher...

Let's pretend baby. Let us masquerade this liaison behind white washed walls. Stealthy we must keep this. He cannot find out. Call upon me, make me your toy. I want to be used. I am a glutton for the way your body moves. The way your lips look so sullen. I get high with every touch you make down my back. Euphoric disposition. I am inclined to be submissive. Schoolgirl shy. I accept your advances, sir. You are king and I am not. I want you all over me. Resistance is now a forgotten word. Such a rapturous delight, sweeter than cointreau banana melts. Melt into me. Bend me, take me, break me because in your hands I am as fragile as glass. I feel no guilt for the other when you consume me. You, my dear are the secret that I plan on keeping for my own selfish indulgence. I cannot give you up...I will not.

You know I'm not dead I'm just the tears inside your head.

This desolation pains me. My heart feels an absence that is merely indescribable. There is no panacea to alleviate the pain or loss. Even though you are here, you are not. You are like a phantom with motives not entirely known. I wonder what I have done. Is it because I am troubled? That I cannot help. I was broken long before you existed in my realm. You are too far gone. I cannot rope you back in. I am another victim of cataclysmic love. Even though I lay next to you....Our love is long distance.

Hysteria is impossible without an audience.

Become invisible my mind tells me. You are no longer opulent, no longer inviting. The assemblage looks on, although I feel as if they are looking through me, sometimes staring into me. I feel like a mirror sometimes, a reflection of the ugliness one might feel on the inside of themselves. I adorn myself in luxury to hide the fact that my insides are as ragged as a hand me down from the five and dime. I speak in riddles so you can draw your own conclusions, sir. I am as abstruse as they come, baby. Try to figure me out. Let's just see if you can triumph. When you finally figure me out, My face will have already changed.The scalpel will have already cut deep, darling. The bandages will come undone and I will once again be a great beauty. You will never recognize who I have become.

Kiss Me....Kiss Me....Kiss Me....

I am bruised and emotionally spent. I feel as if time is escaping me, I keep running but cannot latch on. You are also escaping me. Running and hiding. I can tell by your fastidious disposition. Is it me you fear or what I have become? I cannot change how uninviting I look to you. I want you to look at me with the same fascination of days before, instead you look at me with such antipathy. My beauty is what makes you stay, I know. I want you to kiss me like the very first time because only then will I know that I am okay, that we are okay. I feel dissolution breathing down my neck. I hope its just my unruly paranoia and not the inevitable. I love you.

There's a Light that Never Goes Out.

I feel a strange placidity lately. I can only cross my fingers that it lasts forever. I feel like me again. This better not be an April Fools Day bon mot!


Complications of a love affair gone wrong linger like a hopelessly familiar effluvium. It follows you on every corner you turn to remind you of a liaison, that is no longer. We weep under a haze of cigarette smoke and we lie on a bed of empty bottles consisting of the "lets forget about it quick" potion. We need to erase this. The old cliche "time heals all wounds" is becoming a sick joke. Years have passed by like centuries. I still covet your admiration. Do you still yearn for mine?

It should take you exactly four seconds to cross from here to that door. I'll give you two.

The "Mean Reds" get to me. I am the Modern Day Holly Golightly. I live freely and it can become quite exhausting. I am the broken gift inside delicate and ornate wrapping. I am the one you RETURN TO SENDER. I am not easily reassembled. I think its time for my life of lace to adhere to the harsh velcro of society once again. I need to escape the prison and confinement of my fucked up mind to live normally again. i want to experience the warmth and beauty of the sun pressed against my skin. I want to interact with humans again, even if they are shitty or difficult. I want to not have an incessant nausea in my stomach everytime i emerge from my cocoon of panic. I long to be the girl I lost months ago. Im trying I honestly am. If i dont sharpen up a lot is at stake, especially the boy I love so dearly.

One Day I would Like To Disappear.

Dissociation is an art form that I have mastered. I disconnect from this world, my body. the only thing that remains is my mind and that is barely hanging by a thread. Is she normal? Is she mad? not even I know the answer to that question. Sanity is such a fragile thing, not extremely complex yet it remains a mystery to me. I fade in and out. Who am I today? A catatonic state is bittersweet. The writhing, the sweating and the tears. Heart beating. Mind dancing around like a ceremonial pow wow dance. I like it. scratch that I love it. Im on the brink of madness. Laughing inside, a cackle that escalates into a hysterical scream. I hate this person inside. So histrionic. indecisive. Let me go. Release this demon. exorcise me. Forgive me father for i have sinned, but should i forgive you? fuck you for giving me this cross I bear. Amen, Amen.