"I wish I was strong enough to lift not one, but both of us.
Someday, I will be strong to lift not one, but both of us."

Fix

In some small way it eats at me. Little things with big potential, tiny marks that crease themselves into my soft brain and into the pale parts of my skin. It's a hatred for hating, and a disturbing inability to snap out of it and tell people what's wrong. I don't know what's wrong. I'd like to pay someone else to tell me so that I won't have to work so hard to pretend to care. Sometimes I get instantly pissed off for things that should be silly and make me laugh. I turn my back and squint my eyes shut just so you won't bother me. I hate that I get so upset, but i can't help it. I can't exhaust myself with the same explanations, words, "I'm fine"s, and quiet lip biting. I just want you to see sometimes. To see and to fix things , not to just see. I want a fix. I want a fix like a fucking cigarette and a bottle of rum. I want to be let out of the car and go home or I want you between my legs with passionate vengeance. I don't want to go out all the time anymore. That's something I used to do throughout high school, it's just not that way anymore. Sometimes I just want to sit in silence and think about things. Then again, once I get out I feel a lot better about things so I guess it's a matter or laziness now. I don't like that sometimes I hurt myself just to make myself feel something that is real and not the typical drone and drag of a long day with a million apologies from you and nothing to do. I hate that I try so hard to be happy and that it's way too easy for me to be sad about nothing in particular. Sometimes I have a really nice day, like today, and then things crash so quickly that my brain cells suffocate themselves just to shut out the ensuing pain. Sometimes all I want is you, you, you, and you. And sometimes I just want to pick up something with an edge and cut into myself like a ripe peach. I go in and out so quickly and rely heavily on the good things to pull me out with a desperate grasp out of the slump that is my darkening mind. I love you to the ends of my hair and the tips of my toes, but sometimes I can't explain and I just need you to fix it for me.

Cut.

A terrible quake shook her bones.
The room spun with colors in a spider web of stick and rot. She was utterly lost in it.
Methodical
Obsessive
Effortless
Numb
Things were turning red, turning into long dark lines across her skin.
Uneven, she apologized for not doing a neater job. They were scattered, just all over.
No more room really.
Sorry.
When the spins stopped she looked at her work of art, a scratched and striped canvas on olive skin
Let no one in.
It all happened so fast.
She began to obsess, to stare, to not care, to want to feel the sting of reality upon her wrist, upon her legs, hip bone, and the soft of her stomach.
Why?
There are no reasons, but then there are too many to find words for. Too many to care to explain to those who would simply think of her as a child .
The breakdown.
Mother has instructed her to cover up with silver and beaded bracelets.

Phone Affair

Last night I couldn't sleep for three reasons: I drank water right before bed causing me to have to pee constantly, I have a chest cough which had me hacking throughout the night, and I was waiting for a text message that never came. I slept next to my phone and watched the hours go by, by, by, nothing yet. Maybe by the time I return from the bathroom? non. I was waiting for my usual goodnight from him, but because I had left his house that night slightly annoyed, that text never came. I kept having brief and fleeting dreams, or scenes, in which my head deceived me, leading me to believe that he was laying next to me in bed. I would turn on my side to face him and he would disappear. I would stretch my arm out to feel him, but he was air. That's a disappointing feeling, and so it kept me up. I kept thinking it's not that late: 3am is not that late he could still... I think it's a  bit obsessive. Bathroom break. I cough for a few minutes. Finally as dawn approached, I fell into a comatose like sleep only to be awoken an hour later by my alarm. Do you see what you do to me? Now I've slept all day.

Like This:

I want to keep it like this: I sit next to you at the bar, my hand with a mind of its own, traces lightly around the sleeve of your shirt. I'm looking at you even when I don't know that I am. It's become something of a talent of mine: to see you and to not think too much about it, but at the same time I think so much about you. I like the looks I give you as I drink my shake and I like how you justify your silliness in the most ridiculous manner. I like your pride and I like that your hand finds the smoothest parts of my body and warmly glides over them. I like the way you talk about babies and how I'm your different kind of baby. Yours. I like that you want to be involved with the people in my life even when I don't make them readily available to you. I like how you make conversation with strangers and act interested in things that aren't interesting. Actually, I don't think you're acting, I think you actually are interested.

You Are to Her

In that moment the world tasted sweeter.
The sun licked her skin and left it glistening in the heat.
She turned back down the hot street towards his voice; following it on the phone.
Like a child, she craned her neck around every bend searching, looking, waiting with giddy excitement.
The garden was straight ahead and she looked for him there before the wind turned her around with its gentle grip and she saw him.
He ran awkwardly towards her with the sun on a green stem.
Everything was like new.
He wore her favorite shirt, her favorite smile, and held her favorite flower.
You are my favorite favorite thing. She thought.

Fall Break

Something in his eyes was broken. I had once again asked for more from him, really, I'm just looking for reciprocation. I just want someone to run with me. Run free and careless. So what if we have class tomorrow! That's tomorrow. What if an asteroid smashes into Earth and we had cut our time short together to be prepped for class tomorrow. What if a tsunami swallowed this city and we were in bed, away from each other, and all we had done prior to that was sit and watch T.V.?? I need adventure. I didn't mean to break him. I didn't mean to make him so upset that the very earth he stands on turned to jello shots and caramel. All I wanted was to clear my mind and to say things that would help us to move forward. Sometimes it's a little exhausting to love another person because you become so wrapped up and so sensitive to everything they do that you begin to break a little. I don't want to take a break from you, but I do. I want you around, but I don't want to see you right now. I love you to death, but you make me feel small sometimes. You make me want to put this ring on my left finger, in fact, you promised that, but I twist it  until a red ring appears. Something in my stomach aches for you and something in my brain wants nothing to do with you for a couple days. Taking a break is exhausting. I told you all the things I want to do while we're a young couple in our first few months. I told you that. I want you to do those things not for me, but with me. I want to be happier than I have been, and that 's pretty happy. I've been content, but I feel us getting stuck in molasses. I love you. Don't take a break.

Before

My fear of being in a relationship, was always in that I wasn't comfortable with the idea of "belonging" to someone else. I didn't want to be responsible for having to care about another person just because we had sex or because that's what a relationship required by social standards. I always wanted a man, not a boy, someone that would understand my walls and why I had built them instead of focusing on tearing them down and being the Greek hero he had always fantasized of being. I didn't feel comfortable with the notion of having labels. You are my ________ and I am your ___________. I didn't want to become dependent on someone because my emotions and feelings were stronger than I was. It's nature taking over, and that scared me.
Within the two months that I've been with my boyfriend, I've come full circle and have watched myself change my ideals about relationships. Biased much? But really, I asked him yesterday to get me something...a ring, to solidify the notion that I belong to him. I used that word, "belonged", which used to feel like acid on my tongue. I didn't care how expensive, shiny, glitzy, or big it was, I just wanted something to have to reassure myself that this happiness does exist. Sort of like in "Inception", how each character who delves into the other side has their piece, something to keep them grounded in reality. That's what I wanted. I find myself thinking ahead about a future and saying "we" a lot instead of singular pronouns. I think about having kids a lot. (DISCLAIMER: I will not be having a baby anytime soon) But, I do think about it...in the future. I used to NEVER want kids. I mean, I was adamant about it. I didn't used to like them. I now find myself being suckered into their cute little worlds every time I see one at a restaurant, bookstore, cafe, etc..
I think about what we'll do on holidays (his family or mine?) I think about wanting to make him happy and I get angry when he doesn't live up to his own expectations. All I want is to belong. To have the freedom to be myself, yet, to belong to him. I want him to make me feel safe, secure, and wanted as much as possible. I want to know he'll be there and I want to make him happy. I want other people to know I'm "taken" and I want him to feel the same way. Today, as we walked around downtown at an art fair, we wandered into a beachy shop and together we picked out a ring for me to wear. Not at all expensive, but a simple surgical steel ring with a "diamond" in the center. It's just right. I'm just right. Everything is just right.

Blood

www.thefancy.com

I was watching the love of my life, sunken into another man's skin suit, fuck another dark haired woman. It was him, but I didn't recognize the fleshy facade he had pulled on over his body. He made love to me and then merely tossed me aside to make way for the other olive-skinned brunette. She had long luscious hair and stretched out naked on the floor with the devil in her eye. I hated again. I tried to stop it from happening by displaying my discomfort and distraught across my face. They kept fucking and so I found myself in a hallway heading towards the bathroom where I locked myself. There was plastic on the floor and I began to bleed all over it. I bled freely and painlessly, I bled chunks and pure streams of my warm claret which ran down my legs. I wrapped it up in the plastic and left it on the floor to fester within itself. Suddenly a bright blue square slammed into my vision and shook me awake. It felt real. I felt like the square had made enough noise to wake him up. He was still sound asleep, his bare back to me, and I wanted arms to secure me and to stop the dream-world bleeding.

I forced my eyelids shut again and waited to drift away, hoping this time that my love would remain faithful and that my happy vital fluids would remain skin deep.