Grey & White Stripes

Over the years I have learned this odd and strangely accurate truth about myself: I tend to love like a dog. All at once and intensely. Every time I see that thing I love I just go f*cking nuts wanting to touch it and kiss it and tell it how amazing it is. I want to lay at their feet and follow them everywhere they go. Anything they want me to do, I will do. Over and over again.  But I also tend to fall in love with cats. Literally and figuratively. But we shall go onward with the metaphor: the more attention I give them the more they run away. If I get too close they claw and hiss and try to scare me off. But my dumb puppy dog self keeps coming back. Only once I leave them alone the cat comes over and lays close to me, close but just out of reach. They purr and let me know they're happy to be close, but not together. For a while that makes my doggy heart happy just to make them happy because that is what I live for, to make them happy. 

He only kissed me because she dared him to. He only kissed me again because he thought he might get lucky. Then again I have no room to judge. I thought it might too. And maybe, if I did that, I might feel something again. But I chickened out and only kissed him goodnight, watching him walk out into the rain not long after with another blonde slut. No she-shaming though, I used to be that blonde slut.  But now I am just a girl who put everything on hold because one guy hurt her. A girl who went from feeling so much all at once to feeling absolutely nothing at all. Nothingness for years... I thought I'd get over him, over the pain and the trust issues. Like I did before. It took me less than a year to recover from losing my virginity in a very regrettable fashion... about 6 months or so to recover (mostly) from being assaulted by two men that I had considered my friends... only a few weeks to recover from the trauma of totaling my car from a stupid teenage mistake... and about a

I respect that you all believe in guilting others into fitting into your tiny box of what you want the world to be and that you somehow call that love, but I call that hell on earth. I do not believe that the Jesus you preach about and love so much could condone this whatsoever.

So many cries for help Pounding on my skull But none of them escape For fear of seeming dull Apathy is settling in Desire slinks away Not so much as darkness As fuzzy dimming grey Like the bleakness of a sunrise In a foggy Monday morning. I think if would cut myself I wouldn't feel the blood come pouring But even just the thought of that Of harming ones own flesh Just makes me feel more petty like I'm becoming less

Take me back, back to the city by the sea.  Back where nothing existed but sand between my lover and me.  Oh how I love that city by the sea. Where nothing really mattered but my lover and me.

I am tall, and agile, with curled, dark brown hair that sways to the nip of my back; I am a dancer. I always have a smile on my face, twirling, dipping, and leaping through the air. My partner is very professional, agile, and beautiful as well. We dance for ages it seems, just performing for an empty auditorium. The velvet, burgundy red, curtain behind us, sleepily slumping on the stage ground. Stretching far above our heads, thirty maybe forty feet above us it clung to the wires, chains, loops, and pulleys. Against the curtain, my dress is illuminated. A pale buttermilk, floor length, sleeveless, gown with lily petal patterns intricately embroidered almost invisibly around the skirt hem. Accompanied by my gentleman’s classic tuxedo, we silence all fashion magazines in awe and zealousness. The stage is lit by only the main spotlight, glaring at center stage, heating the floorboards beneath my slippers and evaporating the sweat beads accumulating around my temples, then breaking free to