You are under my skin,
peeling me with a steak knife
rather than a paring knife.
Yes, my skin is red
and my flesh is delicious.
Such a delicate balance of
bitter and sweet.
Juices melt out of me
and you lick your fingers,
as you keep peeling.
You always grab me.
Your favorite;
worth three pages
of decadent insight.
You say aloud that I
taste like the food of the gods.
Ambrosia!
Ambrosia!
You confer immortality.
You say; you...
can't get enough.
When you notice my bruises
your hands stop moving.
Will you love them?
Or will you cut them from me?
Decisions turn wild
when you partake of them too.
You have now eaten all of the red.
You say the best is sure to come.
The pages you set me on
become wet with nectar.
You take your knife
and place it gently on my head.
The blade is dripping my insides
onto my one leaf.
I smile.
You sever.
You continue to cut
and feast upon my glory.
You feel for a second
like you are penetrating magic
and distilling elements.
When you are finished
you are alone.
Just like you were before.
And you put my seeds
on your pages,
while the taste of ambrosia
still lingers.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Fat Commercialism
You're kidding right? You turn on your computer after whatever kind of long day you've had to check your email, or study, or whatever it may be. And when you sign in to get your email the headline at the top of the screen reads blatantly in huge black and white font:
Why is My Stomach Fat?
Well, first of all, shut up. No one wants to hear or read that. Secondly, if my stomach is fat, it's because I don't exercise, I'm unhealthy, and I eat like a pig. So I don't really need to be asked that. And thirdly, my stomach isn't fat, so why must those of us that are healthy be subjected to such questions?
I have the unfortunate thought that many more people than I'd hope, fall into such commercialism.
On another note...
Heather: "It's a semicolon. A semicolon. It's an A+, you said so yourself. It's art." She nods her head to the left and bites her lip, trying to be respectful. Maybe that semicolon will get semicolon cancer and die.
Anonymous: "Art has rules too Heather, everything has standards. Maybe in unconventional ways even, but standards still, that they must go by."
Heather: "Are you talking man made standards, or natural standards? I get the feeling it's the first. There are no fucking rules." And she walks away quietly.
Why is My Stomach Fat?
Well, first of all, shut up. No one wants to hear or read that. Secondly, if my stomach is fat, it's because I don't exercise, I'm unhealthy, and I eat like a pig. So I don't really need to be asked that. And thirdly, my stomach isn't fat, so why must those of us that are healthy be subjected to such questions?
I have the unfortunate thought that many more people than I'd hope, fall into such commercialism.
On another note...
Heather: "It's a semicolon. A semicolon. It's an A+, you said so yourself. It's art." She nods her head to the left and bites her lip, trying to be respectful. Maybe that semicolon will get semicolon cancer and die.
Anonymous: "Art has rules too Heather, everything has standards. Maybe in unconventional ways even, but standards still, that they must go by."
Heather: "Are you talking man made standards, or natural standards? I get the feeling it's the first. There are no fucking rules." And she walks away quietly.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Second October
"What else is there for you?"
"The dark." He said. "Nothing left but the dark." He took my hand in his and gently kissed my fingers. "You still have time in the light. They want you. Go." He started to step back into the shadows.
"But I--."
"Go." He said, leaving me to walk into the light.
It is a threshold I don't want to cross. I want to say something or even look behind me into his eyes. He'd understand if he could see my eyes. But I don't. After I shut the door and realize he's really gone I am startled by Mark.
"Where have you been Beth?" He comes up behind me and swings me around. I am thoroughly disgusted with his breath and the joint in his hand.
"I needed air, Mark." Giving him the same arrogance he gave me. I feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable. "You like yourself don't you? You're 'ex' sent me a text you prick. And you know what? I don't mind. Really I don't. I've come to realize that's how normal people live." I stumble trying to pull away from his grip. "Just, leave me alone!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down there sweetie. Why are you always so weird?" The charisma everyone else sees in him is the bile I see. "You just need a little powder, and a little sex. Or a lot of both."
I tilt my head laughing in disbelief.
"Fuck you Mark. And fuck your life. And you know something? Envy does not become you!" I swiftly turn around and walk away with so much emotion in me I want to die to stop feeling it.
While making my way to the front door Jackie catches me. I don't want to pretend. He said he's too old to pretend anymore. Well my excuse is that it's just too much work for me.
Though I really just want to call her a stupid, vile, slut, I contain myself to the first nicest thing that popped in my head. "Why don't you take your $300 whatever name heels and your drunk ass home?"
"Ooh, bad night Beth? Well maybe you should wear a push up bra next time."
" Yea? You stupid, vile, slut. Go fuck yourself." I smirk. I realize the more angry I get, the more I swear. I wonder if it's unattractive to anyone. Do I care?
I take every side, back and hidden road on my drive home. I light up yet another cigarette. I always feel like I can't think without them. I guess it's that whole addiction thing. I miss him, our conversation wasn't enough for me. The smell of the moist, dying leaves are making my whole body shiver. I roll my window down more to inhale the wind in between the drags of my smoke.
I can't make them comfortable around me. Maybe he can. Maybe he just thinks it's something I'll grow into, something I'll learn as time passes. Wouldn't it be grand if he was right there? I shake my head staring into the woods ahead of me. Right there, in all black, waiting for me. Ready and willing to let me take cover under his cloak.
I stop the car and get out. I love this park. I sigh thankfully in the fact that no one is here. I put my back to the hood and push myself up to sit, wondering when we'll meet again. I'm alone. I feel so lucky to have a mind like mine, but I feel so empty. I got only a taste of his blood. And there aren't many around me who understand what he understands.
"You can hate everyone!" I yell to the tops of the maples. "I love everything, and hate everyone!" My head drops down.
He has heard me cry before, I couldn't relax my voice during a phone conversation. He has heard me cry damn it. I close my eyes lightly and repeatedly to make the tears disappear. I jump down and get back in my car so I can get my cell. After shuffling through my purse I pull it out and dial the number. 1-800-coke&sex. No Beth, you idiot. You stupid girl. Pissed at myself I slam the phone shut. I want to be me. Not them. Me.
Is he right? Will I love too much?
Finally I get home and run upstairs to put on my favorite pajamas. I wish he just lied to me. But it would have been in vain. I lay in my bed and dream of life; and death. So scared to one day find out which will be my fate.
"The dark." He said. "Nothing left but the dark." He took my hand in his and gently kissed my fingers. "You still have time in the light. They want you. Go." He started to step back into the shadows.
"But I--."
"Go." He said, leaving me to walk into the light.
It is a threshold I don't want to cross. I want to say something or even look behind me into his eyes. He'd understand if he could see my eyes. But I don't. After I shut the door and realize he's really gone I am startled by Mark.
"Where have you been Beth?" He comes up behind me and swings me around. I am thoroughly disgusted with his breath and the joint in his hand.
"I needed air, Mark." Giving him the same arrogance he gave me. I feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable. "You like yourself don't you? You're 'ex' sent me a text you prick. And you know what? I don't mind. Really I don't. I've come to realize that's how normal people live." I stumble trying to pull away from his grip. "Just, leave me alone!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down there sweetie. Why are you always so weird?" The charisma everyone else sees in him is the bile I see. "You just need a little powder, and a little sex. Or a lot of both."
I tilt my head laughing in disbelief.
"Fuck you Mark. And fuck your life. And you know something? Envy does not become you!" I swiftly turn around and walk away with so much emotion in me I want to die to stop feeling it.
While making my way to the front door Jackie catches me. I don't want to pretend. He said he's too old to pretend anymore. Well my excuse is that it's just too much work for me.
Though I really just want to call her a stupid, vile, slut, I contain myself to the first nicest thing that popped in my head. "Why don't you take your $300 whatever name heels and your drunk ass home?"
"Ooh, bad night Beth? Well maybe you should wear a push up bra next time."
" Yea? You stupid, vile, slut. Go fuck yourself." I smirk. I realize the more angry I get, the more I swear. I wonder if it's unattractive to anyone. Do I care?
I take every side, back and hidden road on my drive home. I light up yet another cigarette. I always feel like I can't think without them. I guess it's that whole addiction thing. I miss him, our conversation wasn't enough for me. The smell of the moist, dying leaves are making my whole body shiver. I roll my window down more to inhale the wind in between the drags of my smoke.
I can't make them comfortable around me. Maybe he can. Maybe he just thinks it's something I'll grow into, something I'll learn as time passes. Wouldn't it be grand if he was right there? I shake my head staring into the woods ahead of me. Right there, in all black, waiting for me. Ready and willing to let me take cover under his cloak.
I stop the car and get out. I love this park. I sigh thankfully in the fact that no one is here. I put my back to the hood and push myself up to sit, wondering when we'll meet again. I'm alone. I feel so lucky to have a mind like mine, but I feel so empty. I got only a taste of his blood. And there aren't many around me who understand what he understands.
"You can hate everyone!" I yell to the tops of the maples. "I love everything, and hate everyone!" My head drops down.
He has heard me cry before, I couldn't relax my voice during a phone conversation. He has heard me cry damn it. I close my eyes lightly and repeatedly to make the tears disappear. I jump down and get back in my car so I can get my cell. After shuffling through my purse I pull it out and dial the number. 1-800-coke&sex. No Beth, you idiot. You stupid girl. Pissed at myself I slam the phone shut. I want to be me. Not them. Me.
Is he right? Will I love too much?
Finally I get home and run upstairs to put on my favorite pajamas. I wish he just lied to me. But it would have been in vain. I lay in my bed and dream of life; and death. So scared to one day find out which will be my fate.
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