A Jingle

So, everyone... I realize I haven't posted in awhile, and I realize we all hate when people don't update their blogs... here's something. Though I have a little curb going on right now... I can't seem to stop singing the Bounty paper towel jingle. Enjoy! And Happy Holidays.



She is here to try and hold back her hurt. She's becoming cold, and she's trying to decipher this change she feels. This is her solitude. This is her snow globe.

Her mittens are blue with a red heart in the center. They keep her fingers toasty while she touches the snow. She looks up as if falls all around her, hitting her eyelashes and dripping down her cheeks. She has a blue hat, and red scarf to match. It takes her an hour to finish the snowman. She loves the gentle memories of being a child in winter time.

She gives him two rocks for eyes, and shivers while taking her scarf and hat off, to put on him. Her phone rings unexpectedly. She pulls it out of her pocket and on the third ring hits silent, so she doesn't have to hear it ring anymore.
For she's empty.

Her other pocket holds a gingerbread man wrapped in a paper towel. She made many the night before. He has blue eyes and blue buttons. His sleeves and legs are adorned with white frosting. She looks at the cookie and has no room for thought about anything other than the fact that there is a home made gingerbread house sitting on the counter in her home, unfinished.
She bites the head off of her ginger bread man just like a child would, and chuckles to herself at how good it tastes to behead a cookie.

The snow flakes are getting bigger. Her snowman already has a layer of fresh snow on him. Any sign of her hands working hard on him are now diminished.
She sits next to a small evergreen finishing her cookie. Now she's starting to think more. The five W's plague her mind. Why? Who?-- but especially the added H, how?

She looks down at the empty red mittens next to her. She wants to cry so badly. The snowflakes do it for her. She rubs her arms and runs her cheek along the top of her shoulder to try and comfort herself. What is going on? She doesn't even know.
All she knows is that there is no one that understands her. No one who is like her.
How will she cope with this for her life? How will this, being alone, not turn into loneliness? The ground beneath her starts to shake and she puts both of her hands on the tree to sturdy herself. Her face crashes against the rough trunk and cuts her chin.

Things settle again, as it snows more. She she's drops of blood fall into the snow, and realizes the cut is not going to stop bleeding anytime soon. She is happy to have the towel with her that her cookie sat in. She holds the towel over her wound. And something snaps. She starting crying. Crying and crying. Happy as ever that no one was around to hear her. She continued to cry until her eyes became swollen and her voice became hoarse. She heard footsteps in the snow behind her.

Who? This is her solitude.
She decides not to move an inch until she has answers to her questions.
Frozen, in her globe.

A Wish and a Gift

"I am scared of him." She speaks while wrapping her caramel colored hair around her finger.

"What Beth? What do you have to be scared of?" Her head is hung low and I lean my head and shoulders down so as to make eye contact with her.

"You just wont get it, you wont." She gets up and strolls to the window staring out it. She knew I 'got it'. "You. You are like a dream Cal. A perfect dream. We'd be perfect together you know."

"Perfect, yes. That would be a bad thing though. We'd need something to argue about... or something." I feel my heart getting heavy and I try to ignore it. "You know it just wouldn't be right." I sigh, knowing we both have this understanding.

"Of course I know, or we would have been together ages ago. We are like... two gay people, that have... uh--." She paused and looked away from the window, at me.

"We have knowledge." I say with almost no mood. None anyone could decipher anyway.

"I can go with that." She smiled playfully.

"So, what does he need? What do you need?" I say to figure out what my role shall be tonight.

"I'm in deeper than you think Cal..."

"I'm sure." I figured as much. Such a wonderfully bright girl she is. Beautiful. And always mixed up in things out of her league.

"You see, I was awake, little to his knowledge. He was taking advantage of Lily in that nasty hotel bathroom. Did we ask for it?" I could only see her long hair down her back and her legs. But I didn't need to see her face, to hear the depth in her voice. "Our job was done Cal, he paid us, we were through. He just wanted us to sleep there with him. Paid extra for it." She said this all with such hesitance. I felt she was hiding something.

She looked at me with guiltiness swimming around in her eyes. "I'm not a hooker Max. I don't do these things. And neither does Lily. We are dancers. We dance."

"Are you convinced?" I say gently, again with no mood.

"What? Well, I don't want you to th--." She took a deep breath. "Cal, she and I had a few in us. Had a pill or two in us. I was irate he was hurting her." I could tell now, more than a few minutes ago, she was scared. Maybe there's more to the story. "And this isn't the first time he's hurt one of our girls. He's hurt me too. But the boss insists--"

"What do you need Beth?" She knows I am always here. A kind of... guardian. I get up to pour more coffee into my white mug.

Again she takes a breath. "Come here." She said. "Please, j-- just come here."

I felt a rush of something go through me. I stare at the black in my mug. This isn't a good feeling. This wasn't her job, not at all. I am the one. It is my duty. Just like when we were children, and I saved her from that bully in school; and that shitty man at the country store that stole her ten dollar bill...

"Beth, you are lovely you know." And I meant it. I set my mug down and followed her. Down two sets of stairs, and into her garage.

"Here. Here Cal." She grabbed my wrist and showed me her back seat. There he was, writhing. Like he was the victim. A helpless little victim. I put both of my hands on hers and I gently pushed her to the corner of the garage. "Let me take care of this sweet heart." She nodded with wide eyes.

I opened the door and looked at the knots tied around his ankles, around his knees, his elbows, his wrists. He must have hurt her, for my Beth to get this angry.
I ripped the tape from his mouth, and pulled the gag out, which was nothing but a black tank top from her little body. I looked at her, and noticed her quivering lips.

"So, what are you doing here? Did you have a good ride?" I looked at him ready to pounce if I needed. He was made of fat, not muscle. And he was whimpering like a child.

"She's psycho man! Do you know what it's like to breathe through your nose for so long? I could have died man." His cheap cologne and stale beer breath smothered me.

"No. I suppose I don't. I've never been in such predicaments. Tell me, what got you here?" I am stern. To the point.

"Fuck you man, untie me or I will blow a cap in you, too."

"Too?" I was pacing the room with my eyes, looking for my next move. I noticed little Beth crouched up, she looked at me and started to sob.

"It was him Cal! Him!" She sobbed while stretching her shirt out as if to hide her body. The thought of him stealing innocence from her... my initial sickness left quickly. I didn't need emotion for this.

"Him." I looked at his disgusting face. "You?"

"Get me the fuck out of here. I swear you will regret the day you were born boy!" I could taste his fear. I've waited long for this moment. So has she.

"You know what I do to men like you? Men that treat women like meat?" I looked at her again.

"I make them... the dinner."

And her and I played with our prey... far into the night.

Sweet Vice

My veins are pulsing blue liquid. My red painted lips are dripping with rain. I watch him from the alley as he walks across the road. He clings to the hook handle on his black umbrella, and his face is nearly absent to me. His right foot steps onto the curb. And I get faint seeing him come closer. Sick with pleasure for what I have planned. Like a cat, I lurk. Awaiting my banquet.

The numbness in my hands make me clench them into fists repeatedly. I want to hear him feel. Make him feel. What I feel. I am not of this world, and I don't ever want to be. I need my fix. His flesh. Our screams.

I shake my head to get the excess water off my razored layers. His converse have been replaced by black suede looking dress shoes today. And I watch and notice all of him, his white shirt with some buttons undone, his dark jeans, papers bent, not folded, and held loosely in his other hand. I see it all...except his face.

The street lights pop on and I turn my head quickly to avoid seeing them best I can. I take a few steps back and set my palms and left cheek against the sopping brick building. I've waited far too long for this. He will feel my agony, my lust, my sickness, my heart beat. He will...

I notice him.

"Come with me!" I grab his wrist so as if not to be forceful, though I will force if needed. And I don't want to make him drop his papers. I pull him off the sidewalk and into the dark. My dark.

He is not the slightest bit surprised. He raises his umbrella and curves his lips up slightly. His light eyes look so dark. "What is the matter dear? You look restless." His voice makes me feel my hunger even more. He looks straight into my eyes and I feel like my plans for tonight were already etched in our fates. I start to lose any composure that is left in my being.

"Cal, I need you, now." I Stare down at my 50's style teal heels. My tone was clear enough. He says nothing and nods looking forward into the dark.

We walk quietly and calmly side by side.

"Umbrella?" He arranges it so it covers us both.


"No." I say lucidly, and step aside


My insides are starting to burn. I feel my lungs melting. The crisp air is blowing the rain right into our faces. The sting of the drops break me. Straining normality I step in front of him. He holds both hands out and drops the umbrella, then the papers. The sky is all that lights us.


I turn carnal. Sweetly vicious. I grab his wrists knowing he can stop me. Knowing he wont. I slam them against the brick and his body follows. My timid appearance is cursed. It's really a lovely curse. I think.


I want to make this last.


My lips quiver, but my actions remain fierce. I let go of his hands and place mine on his chest. I want him exposed and alive. I tear his shirt open, making sure it stays on him. I scrape my nails down his cheeks and neck. He stares at me, giving himself up to my hunger, for it feeds him too.


My hand grasps his nape and the other grabs the waist of his pants. I can't contain it. It's creeping underneath my skin. I taste his lips and neck. But I find myself holding back from what I want. What I need.


"Show me." He says.


I pause.


"Show me what lives inside of you. Lay it, on me. Purge your every emotion. Right here. Now."

So I turn my tastes into bites. Ones of rage and shame; confidence, and hate. His bottom lip bleeds and my fingers trace it's path. Down his chin, onto his shirt. His white shirt, now soaked with cold rain and watered down blood. Now, I am ready.

"You too." I say tensing my jaw.

He grabs my waist and trades places with me. I tear him apart. He grazes over my skin with bloodied hands. He pulls my thigh up next to his side. I lick the scarlet from his neck. I feel. I can breathe. I laugh with sinister joy and look up to the sky.

I put my hands up the back of his shirt. And wrap my arms tightly around him. I feel his flesh under my nails. I want to mark that, too. His face lingers next to my neck. He inhales my scent. I rip open his skin, and he exhales with noise. A noise of love and anguish.

We continue and go deeper into the night and into each other. He is here with me, in my dark.

My body starts to feel free again, simple. I kneel down and let the rain pour over me. Cleanse me. He does the same. His arm raises slowly, and he places it on my back.

"Is it gone now?" He moves my hair from my face and softly touches my skin.

"You know it never is, Cal." I can't look at him anymore. I am scared. I am lost.

"Then we will greet it. Every time it comes. Every night we need to. We will reign over the dark. We will never let it reign over us." He stands up and grabs his umbrella.

I pull myself together and scramble to pick up his sopped papers, in assumption they are important.

"Don't worry dear." He motions me to him.

"But--"

"They are blank." I look at him confused.

"They will leave our presence here. This night doesn't need paper. It is written in blood. And that is how it shall stay."

We are closer to the street now. The light is entering my vision more and more.

"See you in the dark." I said.

"Indeed." He replied.

And we go our separate ways.