2001-06-13 | 8:51 a.m.

First things first. Outbox I cannot express to you how much I am thankful - but know that deep in my heart I am.

On to the juicy stuff...

It was supposed to be a one time occasion. Just a naughty diversion to be able to smile smugly in the mirror at myself, knowing what bad, bad things the good, good girl had done and could do. But you see once is never enough. I have to admit I indulged myself a few times more. And with these secluded moments came the craving. And my frustration without promise of relief by something got me seriously pissed. And you know its not like I want the whole "dream". Commitment, 2.3 kids, a picket fence, minivan, pool and golden retriever are not anything that I want in the slightest. But having taken control of this situation also makes me realize how much I enjoy it. How much I realize I can gain and lose.

After all isn't life always about taking the risk? Jumping the boat and swimming on your own terms?

So it came to me like a rush of wetness, flowing through my system. Like blood dripping through veins so keenly spread by steel blades. This condition really does nothing but dirty up my mind. Of course that's probably why I'm trying to find a way around it all. Or a way to fight it all. Because even though impressions are left on pale skin they soon disappear. Like the turkey in thanksgiving dinners. Gone before a blink of an eye by a fat eyed family member. Of course I was always the one who was drinking spirits in hope I would actually find one. And I always seemed to drink till I was full. Because the fire within me scorches my bones and so I keep my head low to avoid the stares. You can't break me I think as I smile. The devil is at my door and I hear it's knocking.

I'm not sweet. I realize this. I may look like it but I think if you say what you mean you get away with more. You become blunt. Your truths don't run out of legs. You can stay on steady ground because your truths have legs. Most people lie. Little white lies. Big lies. Whoppers of them. I came to the point where I thought why lie when the truth is so obvious. People do things and say things and they never mean what they really mean. And they expect you to play along like your some sort of puppet and they are pulling your strings. Fuck you big hands.I got the touch of death in my eyes and I'm not afraid to be deeper.

I always liked pomegranates. They taste delicious but they are heard to eat. You make a mess and in the end you are left with red traces on your fingers and hands and mouth. Like you bit into raw flesh and drank someone's blood. I used to think that deep inside of me I was a pomegranate. People could suck me dry and bleed me out. I forgot I was fresh till this day. That as much as you poke I can survive your brutal tactics. My skin may get bruised but I'm still here.

You heard me fuckers. I'm still here - and I'm not going anywhere.



p r e v i o u s // n e x t