

11.28.09I broke between yesterday and today. Wanting to melt into the floor.11.28.09


11.9.09I stand naked in front of the mirror. I have spider webs in my hair11.9.09
and I can feel my teeth moving apart, the months of braces useless.
Cigarette tongue.
Your shirt is hanging in my laundry room, three hugs later, and I still want to be yours.
Cigarette teeth.
Chapped lips and chapped
hands, I want yours all over me, hike up my skirt and pull my shirt over my head, I want your lips against mine.
Cigarette lungs.
I never liked blue eyes anyway.
--
described as
It's been ages since I got treated to any of your poetry..
that makes me incredibly sad.
:/
So, I think I'll browse your gallery for some of my favorites before returning to the hell hole I call work.
I hope all is well with you.
I just thought you should know
Let's do it, then.
Seriously an hour of nothing but bitching.
^^
Could be just what we both need for inspiration.
I hope everything is well, although I know with the way life goes, it more than likely isn't.
I'd love more than nothing to have an hour bitch session with you!
I bet we have tons of the same things to complain about and I bet we'd both feel tons better afterward.
Does that ever happen to you?
There's so much I have trapped inside that needs to come out, but I have no idea as to where to begin.
Bleh!
I want to take red paint and just smear it everywhere.
I hope you're well.
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