Wednesday, June 24, 2009

dont piss in my face, and then tell me its raining. or you love me

I have a monster living underneath my bed. He’s made up of burnt frog skin, white-red cobweb veined eyes and a collection of missing pebble teeth. Sometimes we play scrabble.
(The first time he was just a mechanical hum beneath the bowing wooden planks, he was just a faint smell of green and he was just a hot cloud of fog around my lips. It’s the wind, it’s the wind, I breathed. Then he breathed back, heavy and loud and monster-like; AM NOT.)
He always spoke in capitals; MONSTERS ARE MUCH TOO SCARY FOR LOWER-CASED LETTERS, he informed me one night under pink covers. I shined the flashlight into his eyes until they changed colour and he bared his teeth.
He sometimes visits my dreams. The grass turns sickly where he trudges and the woodland creatures whimper and scramble in his wake. WHERE’S MY HUG? He holds his warm monster limbs out, palms snatching me from my happy-ever-after and grins gap-toothily. I manage a chuckle as I buckle in his embrace.
He used to keep me awake with questions- he’d keep me awake with questions that don’t have answers. He’d ask me why, why, why. And my eyelids would cling to my cheekbones in desperate hope of sleep but my tongue would slide across the roof of my mouth with thoughts and sounds. I held pillows over my eardrums and blared music- but the ringing of his guttural voice forced through all else and looped continually.
You’re a bad song, I told him, and he kissed my temples with his sticky fingers.He knew everything about Tom. He knew about the hurried, mismatched kiss and the tangle of our hands that day and the way he spoke my name and my toes tingled.
He knew the way he made my heart and eyelashes flutter and the way he broke my heart. He heard between the sobbing, absorbing my tears with frog fingers, about the way he said goodbye.
I told him I loved him and the lime of his cheeks brightened and his eyes held mine tight and close. I LOVE YOU TOO. He grumbled in the prettiest way you’d expect of a monster. I held his webbed fingers and let my heart thump against them.
DON’T GROW UP, he’d beg from beneath me, on the hard cool floor amongst candy wrappers and comic books. Never, I’d reply, adopting his grin. i wear nametags that read "alicia"and "liana" and "samantha," because i want to know how it feels to be someone else for a make me a nametag with my real name on it, and i just laugh.
(later i slip it beneath my mattressand spend the night staring at the ceiling.see, i've tried myself on one too manytimes, and the fit is never right.)

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

next to a dog a book is a mans best friend. inside a dog its to dark to read

this is what i thought was a great big fuck up. a great big situation that needed a great big abortion. but you cant self abort at 19. i think i should start with sorry. i need to say sorry to a girl. because i pissed in her life, instead of in the shower, and because of it i lost everything. and i think it will be harder in the morning.
but im not a child anymore. and i have to sleep in the bed i so uncomfortabley made for myself. im was tall enough to reach for the stars, and im old enough to love you from afar. and now im old enough to do what im told. even if i never hold you again.
this is what i think is for the best. i left. i left without a goodbye, i always run. i always have run away and tried to dig a hole big enough to put my head in. but never succed. i ran away from them because i knew that no amount of the truth could set me free. no amount of sorry could make her forgive me. and no amount of time could heel the silly little wounds.
i sit most nights and wonder why i did it. was it the rush? when did i make up my mind? when did i not think it over? i think i did it because im still scared of myself. im still scared of what i am that i cant deal with what im not. that and the feeling of being alone. even in a room full of people i called friends. still being a stranger. the thrill of doing something that i know i shouldnt. seeing how long it took to get my taste of hate. this is me, completely terrified.