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Thursday, December 10th, 2009
12:59 am - you
you make thinnk you qwin this one...
but i can cut ny soul out at any tome
you think this is the first time i've ever ripped my soul pout with my own teeth. you don't know how i have felt.

(3 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Tuesday, January 27th, 2009
12:32 pm - Prose Writing Assignment Two.
"My Love, Can i Ask You a Question?"
I watch her hands, so much like two sparrows flitting about at shoulder height, a pair of brown birds with black tipped fingers feather splayed with a light touch to the tied up tangle of her curls in a gesture of tension betrayed, a contrast to her calm visage and at ease stance. Palms stretched, she shook her wrists to loosen up and clasped the two fidgeting bird hands together to hold them still. I could see her lips move in prayer or pep talk before she tromped her fur boots around the cart and called to the passerbys.
"My love! Can i ask you a question?"
I hear it in my sleep at this point. I hear it all day, but i imagine she must speak it in hers, her eyes closed without repose still mouthing,
"My love! Can i ask you a question?"
She's circling the cart, a sleek brown shark and she shakes her hands out again during a pause in foot traffic.
She crosses to my side of the cart and smiles at me, so i smile back, but i am bundled in my fat jeans and an old boyfriend's sweatshirt with my hair pulled up and no make up on, so i feel completely awkward smiling at a pretty girl. When i first began working the ornament cart, i hated her. She reminded me of my boyfriend's ex and i spent most of my uneventful weekend mornings imagining her tripping and falling on her face every time she said
"My love! Can i ask you a question?"
I hated her in the way that women have, but i started watching her and trying to understand her through the stolen bits of conversation that drifted away from her customers. She had a perfect face, the only flaw a small sore in the peak of her right upper lip, and when she posed her question she would always draw her eyebrows together in a vision of perpetual querie. She tells people where she is from, but i never hear that part, so i simply imagine somewhere exotic, and i can hear the way she wraps her heavy accent around the letters, the heat of her home warming the syllables.
"My love, can i ask you a question...?"
She always tugs at her hair, longer than mine and shiny black waves that can only exist in hair that's always been this beautiful and never needed the assistance of dye or a straightening iron. She pulls it down and twists half back up to clip away in a tangle and rushes away shaking her hands, poised for flight to call the attention of the next person to walk by. There is more sensuality in her soft expression of mild worry when she asks than any playboy centerfold's bold come hither stare and i am envy and awe.
"Can i? Can i ask you a question, my love?"
Sometimes a boy comes by, all bad skin and rough hands with wolf eyes half intelligent and doggish breaking through heavy dark hair and she always laughs when she sees him. They babble quick and i can't understand, but i know what his laugh means, low and dark and i can see the worry fall away from her brow and for the only time during the day, her hands stay caged in the hooded sweatshirt she puts on to leave, the fur lined hood catching the oil spill of her hair. She leaves for under an hour and comes back with the smell of cigarettes and cover it up perfume. She always tucks the blue green sweatshirt in a compartment in the cart and i watch her hands. She let's the sparrows free and they flit about her head, lighting on her hair and then brushing the focus back into her shirt while they smooth the wrinkles out. Palms flat she shakes her fingers out and paces again, pausing quickly to smile at me and then lean out into the flow of the crowd to say,
"My love! Can i ask you a question?"

(1 night kiss | kiss a stranger in the dark )

12:31 pm - Writing assignment for Prose Class.
"Why i'm Not Married"

'Kitten?" He knocked twice on the bathroom door and i could hear him listen to the sound of the shower's splash. "Kitten?"

I heard the door open and him step inside, there was no lock to keep him out since the night our friend Pat had gotten drunk and simultaneously crashed into it while spewing a jug of Carlos Rossi in an abstract battle cry down the front panel. The door had never smelled nor shut the same.
"Kitten?" I couldn't pretend not to hear him anymore.
"Yep?"
"Kitten," That nickname, it's origin completely lost, had become grating already today in it's overuse. "How come you didn't come say goodbye?"
I didn't answer right away. I rinsed the shampoo and reached for the conditioner, coating my short blonde bob with an unnecessary amount.
"Hello?" He sounded petulant now, both frustrated and confused.
"I was running late. I have to get to work."
"But you couldn't say goodbye?"
I turned to face the water's stream and grabbed the shower gel and began to lather without a response. I turned the hot water up a little, the water pressure was so good that it would start to run out quickly and you had to keep twisting the knob every five minutes or so to keep the temperature nice and hot. The water resumed to a near scalding perfection. He pulled the curtain open.
He was ready for work, ill fitting dress pants from some consignment shop where we found them cheap and a white short sleeved dress shirt with a thin black tie. My mother would often comment that the outfit should be kept to Jehovah's Witnesses and bible salesmen, and that i should get him some better shirts. Every holiday, i followed her advice to no avail, he found the longer sleeves awkward and uncomfortable and always fished the same pit stained yellowing short sleeved atrocities from the bottom of the laundry basket like a child with a favorite smelly old toy. His face was drawn tight with unhappiness, with that tantrum tugging the edges of his mouth into a grimace and his eyes watering.
"Kitten?" The word was quickly becoming every back of the bus swear,every babies hungry cry on a crowded plane.
"Yah?" i turned away from him as i spoke, running the water through my hair to wash out the conditioner and tugged my fingers down, combing out the tangles as i rinsed. He had cried when i cut it, openly cried about my "angel hair" that came off in one fell snip of the ponytailed over dyed clump while his description made me think of pasta.
"Why do you keep turning away from me?" He asked the back of my head.
"I'm rinsing my hair. I had to get the conditioner out." It wasn't true, normally i'm particular about my showers, shampoo first, apply conditioner, then wash myself, then my face, then rinse my hair a final time. I'd skipped the face washing portion for a convienent excuse to not look at him. I heard the rustle of the curtain closing and the heavy clump of his thick soled shoes step to the other side of the tub. He opened the other side of the curtain so we were face to face again.
"What is going on?" the question was a heavy mix of frustration and a little fear. I turned a second time to scrub my face under the slowly cooling stream of water.
"Why do you keep turning away?!" He was angrier now, and if he kept this up he'd be late for work too.
"I'm not turning away, Andy, i'm taking a shower and i have to wash my face and get to work or i'll be late. Aren't you going to be late too?" i twisted the knob again to raise the water temperature and lifted my chin so the warmth spread across my collarbones. Two heavy clumps behind me and the closing of the curtain made me turn for the third time.
"What the hell are you doing?" He'd stepped in the shower behind me, fully clothed and with his shoes still on, the water splashing off his buttons and making the white top transparent like some strange wet teeshirt contest for movie theater managers.
"I need to talk to you! Why don't you ever talk to me anymore? We live together and you never talk to me! You write in your journal and you ignore me and then you leave for work. Kitten, what is going on with us?" At the pet name his voice softens and my skin crawls. He held both of my shoulders in his hands and my whole body stiffened. He looked me over, pleading with his eyes and most likely actually seeing me for the first time in months. I moved my shoulders and grabbed the shower gel to lather up an unessacary second time, to put a layer of something besides water and soaked work clothes between us.
"Andy, this isn't the time or the place. We can talk about it later." I turned towards the water again and he grabbed my wrist, my left wrist to keep me facing him. His hand caused an almost involuntary guilty glance down to my own hand, to the third finger in, a finger that had been bare for almost two months now. He followed my eyes.
"Your ring! Where's your ring?" I held up my right hand, and on the third finger in was a white gold band, custom set with the highest quality diamond he could afford. It wasn't big, but it was incredibly beautiful, flanked with two small rubies, modeled after my great grandmother's wedding band which i had never seen, but often heard about. The family legend goes that decades after she and my great grandfather were married my aunt Marci had the ring appraised for her out of curiousity and discovered it wasn't real. My greatgrandmother laughed when they told her and said "What does it matter if the ring wasn't real? The love was." i always loved that story and told it over and again, which ended with my own ring, where the rubies were real.
"Kitten, why did you move your ring?" I couldn't answer. The guilt was too much for me to speak and hurt him with the truth. I felt like it was my fault, i felt like the change in my emotions was a cancer inside me, something that was broken. I couldn't have told him why i felt the way i did.
(i could have told you after, i could have told you the way you fall out of love a little bit at a time, the way each day brings clearer perspective. I could have told you after how you fall out of love when you stand in the middle of the convenience store and walk past condensation mirrored doors down to where they keep the frozen foods. I could have told you how your heart hiccups when you turn around at the quiet sniffling behind you, how you start to feel so ashamed as you watch him count the change again and see him realize that the two of you can't afford to buy a frozen burrito for each of you, that eighty-nine cents apiece is too much. I could have told you the panic you feel when his shoulders start to shake and you know you won't eat tonight but someone should have told you it would be like this, that there isn't much work around when you don't have a car and every other friday is a lifetime away. Someone should have told you what was coming, but he said he would take care of you.
i could have told you how your face flushes when he starts to openly cry right there in the middle of the salsa and chips and hungry man dinners, how his shoulders shudder harder and he sobs mid temper tantrum while you keep your glance away from his scrunched up eyes to roam over headlines that you can't piece together and dart up to the curved crystal ball of a security mirror hung high in the corner where the clerk watches the two of you in pity and disgust.
I could have told you how embarassed and small it made you feel when he tried to hold you there while the bell above the door rang the entrance of more witnesses to this moment and the way your skin would crawl when he bleated "kitten."

i could have told you the times you would look back on and learn how to leave something you outgrew behind.)

He let go of my wrist and looked into my face.
"Don't you want to marry me anymore?" I had an answer, and it was actually the same answer i gave him when he popped the question around seven months earlier. He'd come to pick me up from work by the security entrance of the mall around Christmas, a little green dodge neon by the big green dumpsters waiting after i folded what felt like the millionth shirt and walked out through the darkened back hallways. I'd gotten in the passenger side door and pulled the red sleeping bag that draped across the two front seats over my lap to keep me warm because the heat had been broken since october. He looked over at me with a huge grin and without a question handed me a small white box and my heart sank while i took a deep breath of the garbage smell that had trailed me into the car after i passed by the dumpster. I opened the box and stared at the ring glaring back up at me and tears formed in the corners of my eyes. He had leaned in and said,
"Well kitten, what do you think?" I looked at him and couldn't say yes. We'd been struggling for months, but then i got promotion after promotion and his degree sat on a shelf while he sat in the same job for two years. I couldn't say yes, i couldn't bring myself to make that promise in that dirty neon, i couldn't determine the rest of my life in that one am moment so i answered.
"Maybe."
"Um. It's kind of a yes or no question." I felt trapped. The motion sensor lights outside the mall blinked off rhythmically on and off and security drove by while i paused.
"Yes." i said and he grabbed me so hard and hugged me so quickly that he didn't hear me whisper.
"Eventually?"

The shower was getting colder and i still didn't have the words for him. I stood in silence and started to shiver, watching realization hit his face. His eyes widened and he spoke again.
"I love you. Don't you love me anymore?" I pursed my lips and tucked my tongue to the upper left corner of my mouth to poke at the painful intrusion of my first wisdom tooth, trying to ground myself in that sharp sensation. His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees in a grand gesture, beginning to sob with his arms wrapped around my middle, his hot face pressed against my stomach, muffling his words, but they came across clearly enough for me to hear.
"Oh my god, you don't love me anymore. You don't love me and you don't want to get married? Is it the baby thing? Oh god kitten, why don't you love me? Why don't you love me anymore?"
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling naked for the first time in the entire conversation. I felt a little relieved that i didnt have to lie anymore, but mostly i felt empty, i felt that i should feel something for this person kneeling in supplication before me because he loved me so much. I wanted to comfort him, but now that it was out in the open i didn't want to lie and trap myself again. I wanted to speak, but instead i watched the water bead on the spiked tips of his gelled hair, i watched it run down into the valleys where his scalp showed through and run off to the sanctity and darkness of the drain. I stood there while the water went from tepid to cool, from cool to cold and let him cry against my stomach, waiting for the shudders to slow. After a while, he lifted his head and looked at me.
"Kitten? Why don't you love me anymore?" It was finally a question i could answer.
"I don't know, monkey." I hadn't called him that in almost a year, my own paired pet name for him.
"It just happened. I just kept hoping i would fall back in love with you." I really had. I'd spent so much time thinking about when i was happy, when we were happy. When we sat out endless nights on the porch, leaning back to account for it's falling down slant, drinking beers we couldn't afford and playing cribbage in the slow summer heat, outside because the apartment was too hot. When he asked me to be his girl after i'd climbed a tree in the rain and he followed me to the top, both of us trying to get away from the crowd and the party to be somewhere we could feel alone and in love. But no matter how many memories i called up, the others would break though. The tears in Honey Farms, the way the slightest setback would knock him down and i would be left to carry us both. The way the minute after we got engaged he started pressuring me about the "baby issue", how i should just forget about going back to school and we could have a kid, didn't i want a baby? And all i could think was that i didn't need two.
I ran my hand over his hair, brushing the water out.
"You've got to get up now, you've gotta get to work. You keep coming in late and you are gonna get fired." He blinked up at me, apparently surprised that i could think about responsibilites when our life together was seemingly ending.
"Kitten i don't care! I just have to know. Can you love me again? Can you?" He begged, still on his knees in a yellow tub in his soaked clothes.
"I don't know." i replied
"Well just promise me! Promise me you'll try?" i sighed and recrossed my arms over my chest."
"i promise i will try." He stood up, optimism blooming across his face and he smiled at me.
"You'll love me again. i know you will!" He kissed me quickly and left, dripping down the carpeted hallway on his way to the bed room to change. I turned the now freezing water off and wrapped myself in my fuzzy pink bathrobe, pausing only to slip the ring off my right hand and replace it on the left. I would try.

(3 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Monday, January 12th, 2009
9:21 pm - you.
sometimes destroy my dreams and poke holes in my wishes.

(4 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Friday, January 2nd, 2009
9:27 pm - should have.
stayed mad.

(1 night kiss | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Tuesday, December 30th, 2008
9:36 pm - oh you sang?
oh you sang?
i said and i didn;t know and i didn't care if it was good, i was going to make myself hate it anyways, i was going to make myself think it was nothing and i would sit in my kitchen that is too small and make fun of your pretty pretty voice because i sing all the time for those i love and they never sing back, they never offer to record my voice or keep me.. or keep the things i wrote no matter what i sang to them...

oh you sang?
i don't care and i didn't care enough past the selfish desire to hear something more desperate and more miserable than me.. oh why is every path so empty?

devoid.

Sam asks what's up and i think he gets my sudden change in mood
but he's actually just answering the phone and talking about something that i can't understand... something i don't care about...

the smell of christmas trees and ham is overpowering and hurts me face.. an hour is wasted in a doorway to a kitchen and i am asking questions that i can't answer.

and i just want to go to bed.

<3 l'etrange dans ma chambre, moi.

(1 night kiss | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Tuesday, December 16th, 2008
8:42 pm - so.
You can buy yourself free time books to read.

and you can set up time for a $300 tattoo.

but you gave me a speech two nights ago that almost made me cry

about how you just don't have the money.

to take me out to dinner.

have you ever bought me dinner?
(i can't remember a time. please let me remember a time.)

mon roi egoiste.

current mood: disappointed

(3 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008
8:06 pm - just a little something...
"He lets her in too late to notice the time, and she stretches on the bed before peeling off her jacket and studying his face and eyes without a smile. He snakes his hand up the side of the light to black out their faces and their histories. He doesn't remind her of when she used to fall into his eyes, and the dark in the room doesn't reveal that now her eyes are closed. He touches her, slowly at first, always tentative and questioning but the november cold that has carried itself inside on her lips doesn't answer so he presses harder. Her hands mimic his motions across her body, she mirrors her touch to his and he can feel her skin warming as though she were a porcelain doll coming to life, birthed with the night as her mother to lay in delivery across his sheets. He pulls away the layers one at a time, and she follows a half heart beat behind with his. He pulls her close and hears the ghost of when she used to moan into his mouth, when she used to roll filthy words off her tongue as though they had a taste she could lap up again off his skin, he kisses her neck and her knees part, she is kneeling in pseudo supplication across his bed and he is pressing her hips higher, closer to his own. He focuses on her skin and the texture, the softness feels as though it's just one more barrier between them, one more bridge he can no longer cross, as though the heat between them now is the embers of a wildfire long died down. His hands are frantic, his hands are her name screamed across the night, his fingers are their years together, pressing the same question into her throat, into her breasts, pushed past to the jut of her ribcage while she arches. He can feel her shadow, her silhouette and for a moment she is nothing but memory, for a moment he can hear her laughter as the waves of want rock her hips back and forth across the palm of his hand. He can feel her slick and hot, he can smell seashells and the small hot pebble of desire, her center and core that the waves cast upon the beach only to tumble back over and again. He is the shoreline and she is the sea, teeming with life and turmoil and possibility he will never understand or hold beyond this. He can feel her tense and he presses closer, he can feel the gap between them dissolve in the swell of her need, he can feel her body tighten and she is reality again, she is flesh and blood, she is everything he ever wanted, she is his first awkward erection and his first fumbled kiss, she is the fear of lonely death and loss. Her breathing quickens and she gasps hard and sudden. He pulls her face close and presses again, forehead to forehead, asking with only touch, begging her to tell him what happened, where he went wrong. He feels her thighs shake and he can almost hear her whisper "i love you". Her hands constrict suddenly, grasping the most desperate part of him second only to his heart and then release, slinking off with only fingertip contact down the soft hair of his thigh. He grazes a finger across her cheekbone and brow, and now can feel the distance of her still shut eyes in the tight light of her lashes. She moves away from him and lights a cigarette. He finishes himself off as an afterthought and she watches the grey dawn begin to fall through his small bedroom window."

current mood: creative

(4 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Monday, November 3rd, 2008
9:20 pm - i am concerned..
about my money.. about where it's coming from and if it will ever be enough...
about your careless hands and the way i've been letting you hold my heart. your palms are rough and i don't know how long the callouses can hold...

("it's gone been well beyond just listening")



she tells me i'm not super woman

i write about kiosk girl all day.

you don't know who kiosk girl is past some girl i wanted to punch in the face because she looked like your ex. she doesn't look like your ex anymore. in fact, i think she's fucking beautiful now..

i write about her a lot.

i don't show you.

i write to you a lot.

i don't show you.

i'm just an asshole.

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Sunday, November 2nd, 2008
10:31 pm - oh yes.
so much i don't say and you forget you don't know me

who lets the asp into their house?

who lets the wolf roam by the door?

and tell themselves it's tame and the way everyone else ended up won't be the end for them. The Byronic hero is so attractive because he's going to hurt you in the end. He doesn't need you are he never did. He's going to eat you in the end no matter how much he looks like your douce vielle grand-mere, il aime manger, et il a faim. antipatique. mechant. can you tell i'm learning adjectives in french? can you tell which ones stick to my ribs and fatten up my words?

The gothic hero. the satanic hero. Choose your name however you please but he's never going to understand why you need.

do we ever need anything?

i think i only want.

i don't eat much these days, and when i do it's the wrong things.

outwardly i am the picture of control and success and inwardly i am... darker.

winter is coming

cuddle up.

and don't forget that wolf fur can be so warm at night.


the little miss

milyssabeth

current mood: hungry

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Monday, October 27th, 2008
9:18 pm - i am cold...
why bother?

i know i'm going to do it..

why pretend i'm not, why gain faith when i can taste it, when i can heal the snap of my ribs and taste it.

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Friday, October 17th, 2008
7:41 pm - i don't trust anyone...
i'm so tired of being strong. i'm so tired of holding everything together.

i need to go draw cards.

(7 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Thursday, September 25th, 2008
7:12 pm - anyone
anyone who's parents are not soul sucking fiends who attempt to appear normal but apparently get a sick pleasure out of lying to their children should go hug them right now.

(1 night kiss | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Sunday, September 14th, 2008
12:30 pm - you are so bullshit.
you are so so bullshit.

weakling.

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Sunday, September 7th, 2008
11:40 pm - i teeter between tired
and really really tired.

i'm wiped and i'm wired and i guess its just as well...


i'm still going but i'm terrified of fucking up.

i've got to learn to trust

something


i don't know. the pressure is on and i've just gotta keep going no matter what.

gotta.

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Thursday, September 4th, 2008
11:07 pm - iiii....
i'm doin it!!

i'm doin it!

look mah no hands! now i can really find out if i'm capable of this, of all of this...

...i don't just have to say i could do it if i tried, i'm dooooooin it. and maybe i can't succeed as much as i thought i could, but bayyyybeee. i'm doing what i set out to do. if i have to work harder to do this, fuck you i will do it....

i am discovering whether or not, deep down i am the kind of person you should respect, and not just the kind who can only do well in one field or another, am i the kind of gal who can put her little heart into it and manage to pull some actual success out of thin air? we all want to think we are that kind of person, the kind who other people should pause and momentarily hold themselves up to and i swear i'm trying to be that. i'm trying to be the best kind of person i can be. i'm trying to be smart and kind and funny and interesting and someday i will know if i am these things, any of these things.. or if i am really all of them, and the time i do my best is the time when i feel that pressure is off... i just want to be a good person.. and not for myself but for everyone around me..

i want all the people i've ever met to have at least one nice thing to say about me, about how i went out of my way to do something out of the ordinary nice, or if gave them something they needed... i want to take care of everyone i know. i want to be everything that helps other people....


hahaha.... i want to take all the people i know and mke up a new country where the only laws governing us are about being kind to each other....i'm eating a creamsicle and Sam just helped me with my french homework...

and i'm really reaaallllyy stoned.

i just want to share how much i'm good with life right now, as long as it doesn't get way tougher, i just want it to stay about this level of hard, so i can maintain this level of hard, i mean did i ever do homework before? like even occasionally or did i only complete things i started in class? i mean, i feel like i should have done more, but i really did everything that was assigned to me. i guess i just have to trust my teachers that the pace we are going it is best for us, and that if i follow their curriculum then i will pass what they have set out for me... i'm a good learner but i'm so scared shitless. so bad...


it's my first back to school fall in exactly 8 years....i didn't know i was ever going to have another.


...the little miss...


...milyssabeth...

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Saturday, August 30th, 2008
10:36 pm - fuck all you junkies and fuck your short memories...
learn to swim...

i'm just not feelin it anymore.

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

Thursday, August 28th, 2008
8:09 pm - it's a secret.
i hate you i hate you i hate you...

i'm smarter and more talented and you are soooo crazy and so fake.

i've always loved you

and i've always hated you.

i don't think anyone else will ever understand

or inspire the firestorm you bring.

you are so informed on nonsense...

you are so blind and so blonde and i hope you know

i hope you know

you are in my footsteps.

you always will be two steps behind.

so there :P

(3 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Monday, October 22nd, 2007
7:15 pm - he's gone
away again

who saw this coming???
oh yeah.
everyone.

(2 night kisses | kiss a stranger in the dark )

Sunday, October 21st, 2007
12:08 pm - here you go doll.
all the times i shut my stupid mouth, i have to let this out.

she's ugly and she's pointless and she's nothing

i'm on fire and you are to blind to see the flame
you are too cold to feel the heat
i want everything

and you are nothing.

( kiss a stranger in the dark )

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