February 22, 2011

A Conversation

"I guess he is just this morbid curiosity for me" she said casually to her companion as she tilted her head to concentrate on flossing with a long piece of blonde hair plucked absently from her own head.

The two stood haphazardly in front of oblong mirrors in the bathroom. Hair pins and bits of paper cluttered the fuzzy floor beneath their schoolgirl shoes.

"A morbid desire that you let die every year and then subsequently dig back up each Spring?"

"I know, I know. God, I fucking know. Its awful, I hate myself for it. But that's just it. I let it die every year. This year, I want to kill it. I want to slaughter this thing. But only after I've figured out how to keep it alive."

"Listen, you know this is a bad idea. And I know that right now, you are acting tough. But you fall for this every year. And every year you ascribe it to curiosity. And every year you get hurt. Again and again and again."

"That's the point."

February 20, 2011

A Confession

" I am tangled up in contradiction. I am strangled by my own two hands. I am haunted by the hounds of addiction. I have lied to everyone who trusts me. I have tried to fall when I could stand. I have only loved the ones who love me."

And I am so sorry.

February 12, 2011

A Hard Cuss and A Ragged Breath

(via Jewel of the South).

My lip curls in sickening sorrow and outrage.
Like that time when we were kids and-
Johnathon ate a butterfly in the side yard.

I was seven and I wanted to scream at him.
But why shouldn't he wonder what it tasted like?

Mr. Elnett threw himself off the top of the parking lot.
In my sleep I try to scream at him-
but why shouldn't he have wondered what it tasted like?