Oh you have issues honey, don't you?

I had stood at the age of seven, gripping my mother's wrists, trying as hard as i could to keep her from going...

Her eyes, i recall, melting with tenderness and confusion, as she continued muttering strange, unwieldy words: "My little eye sack. My little Brahma lamb. Mommy's going to be okay. Don't worry."

In my shoes

“I'm tired of this back-slapping "Isn't humanity neat?" bullshit. We're a virus with shoes, okay? That's all we are.”

Today i was lazy lazy lazy..

I never stay in lines!

"Hey, where are you?"

"LOST", i muttered and started to laugh and then he laughed and i don't remember the rest. I don't remember his door, all those stairs to the second story, the clatter we made making our way down the hall, never turning the lights, the hall lights or his room lights, falling into the futon on his floor. I don't even remember how all our clothes came off.

Yeah i know, the dots here don't really connect. After all, how does one go from a piece of poetry to a heart wrenching beauty to the details of a drunken one night stand? I mean even if you could connect those dots, which i don't think you can, WHAT KIND OF PICTURE WOULD YOU REALLY DRAW?

Don't get mad baby

We were just standing there trying to find the right things to say when i saw a light coming from a dark corner. I really tried to focus to see what this beautiful light was but your voice didn't let me, you start yelling that you meant nothing to me and i gave up. When i turned again there was nothing, gone! Oh how many things i have lost because of you!

But hey, dont even think about it, you can't save me, you never could. Only when i put my lipstick on i feel like myself..

This is you, Enjoy..

It used to be good, i believe for a moment or so i enjoy it. Until i saw the truth. You are what i refused to see. You came looking good almost perfect but now i can see the scars in your right cheek. Deep like the one that i feel inside me after saying goodbye. Arrogant, unsafe, not funny at all. I know i'm stuck, i believe this is totally my thing. Not looking good though. I stop thinking for a moment and try to breath. I do my best to see the future and then i see you again, weak and crummy asking over and over again for forgivness. Pleased and happy i take you back, silly me..

Wine is bottled poetry..