to be continued indefinitely
I can finally write my masterpiece.
Words are spewing out of my mouth and it doesn't make sense and I can't stop them I'm in a haze. My head is buzzing the words are echoing but I can't stop they just keep coming. 'You know, you know, you know, you know, you know, you know...' I see that face from the corner of my eye just stop it just stop talking why can't I and bullshit seeps between my lips and i'm talking in circles with too many 'um's.
the slide is the boat and you're on top and you're holding my arm and i'm hanging. i don't think that i will really die but i do and i don't want you to let go. you do and my heart jumps into my throat but it lasts less than two seconds and i'm in the grass and you say 'let's do it again.'
the bed is bigger than mine and the tv is in front of me and everything makes me think of sex. the bed post is a giant phallus and i rub myself up against it. i kiss it now it's a man and we're kissing; the tv is on and he has just flung a meatball down her dress. the bedpost has my bite marks in it. a statue of mary sits on the end table. mary watches me rub myself against the phallic bedpost and my grandparents are in the living room.
the crows are on the fence and i run back and forth along it with my dogs and i think of 'the raven' and edgar allen poe even though i don't know what or who that is but i've heard it. the crows scare me as i think that they are going to peck my eyes out and i hope that they do. i look at the sun for too long and i want to go blind because i want to know what it's like.
my baby brother sits on me and i hate myself but i'm only a child
the guilt and the shame ruins me
we sit on the bed and i'm scared because you tell me that you want to go to hell because you know that your mom will be there. you don't want to be without your mom and i write you a song as if i know so much. my grandma hates me and she always has but she loves you and so does my mom and that is why i have my scar on my knee.
that boy kissed that girl and i'm angry and i hide in the tunnel and throw rocks at the inside and it makes such a nice clang but i know that i'm making a fool of myself but i don't care.
french fries taste good when you're eight and find out that your best friend got killed by his dad. but he wasn't your best friend but you tell everyone that he was and you've convinced yourself that he was too. the play place isn't good on a day like this because you always hole yourself up in there and don't come out and your mom worries so much and today you would really hole yourself up in there. the second half of this memory is a lie.
squeeze my hand baby, please, squeeze it quit being so unresponsive quit being so stiff i see that look in your eyes please squeeze it don't take it away before you squeeze it because i'm going to have to do it if you do because i promised myself this is the test just squeeze I feel you flinch please.
the pillow feels good between my thighs and i don't ever want to look another person in the eyes again and I want to sink into the bed and never leave
we race on stick horses around derby time and i can't think about anything but sex even though i don't know what it is but it's all that i've thought about since we watched fly away home and you knew what i was doing there in the sleeping bag
but i hated that blue puppet and it scared me so much that i wished that you would have left it at the church but i didn't want to take it off of my bed because i felt bad for it. i hid under the blankets while you were in my room and played with myself and i knew that you knew but i fell asleep before i could care and i dreamed about the giant blue puppet and it terrified me but i told it that i loved it when i told my bears and dolls because i thought that it would kill me if i didn't
dad took me to see a man all the time and he traded baseball cards and had a big white beard but i don't know his name and dad doesn't remember doing this and i wonder why I do. i remember the castle and the bag of chips that i ate there but i will never know what it was or who that man was or why my dad never made me do schoolwork.
the babysitter called me a pig and i sobbed as i shoveled down my cottage cheese and choked on the curds and felt myself balloon and heard myself oink.
you wrote me a note 'if i'm dead tomorrow it's all your fault' and i didn't know what to do so i told on you. we're not friends anymore and i'm sorry but i think that you're a bitch.
'times of sex 1000000000000' 'kassandra what is this?' 'micah wrote it i don't know what sex is'
the commercial is anti-abortion and I say 'that's terrible' and you reprimand me for knowing what sex is and you get mad at me when i talk about gay week at disney because i'm not supposed to know what that is either because i'm in third grade
surfin' USA on my swing and so many times we sat in the chair swing and talked about nothing i miss the sun and i miss my back yard and i miss lauren and britney and michael and chad sams and feeding britney feces on a stick because she thought it was chocolate. her house smelled like ramen noodles and i hear that she has a baby now. the roly polies were so fun to play with after a game of tornado.
you sat on my bed and we wrote in my diary together and i write something but you scribble it out, laughing. i remember it but i won't tell because i know that you wouldn't want me to. you can still see it underneath the scribble marks.
i've always hated my ga-ga and she has always hated me but i don't know why but she did something to me and i know this because of how much i hate her and never want to see her evil face again.
"she's helped me more than you ever could hope to, and in ways that you could never comprehend."
"thanks."
this isn't over just wait it will last forever it cannot end.
Words are spewing out of my mouth and it doesn't make sense and I can't stop them I'm in a haze. My head is buzzing the words are echoing but I can't stop they just keep coming. 'You know, you know, you know, you know, you know, you know...' I see that face from the corner of my eye just stop it just stop talking why can't I and bullshit seeps between my lips and i'm talking in circles with too many 'um's.
the slide is the boat and you're on top and you're holding my arm and i'm hanging. i don't think that i will really die but i do and i don't want you to let go. you do and my heart jumps into my throat but it lasts less than two seconds and i'm in the grass and you say 'let's do it again.'
the bed is bigger than mine and the tv is in front of me and everything makes me think of sex. the bed post is a giant phallus and i rub myself up against it. i kiss it now it's a man and we're kissing; the tv is on and he has just flung a meatball down her dress. the bedpost has my bite marks in it. a statue of mary sits on the end table. mary watches me rub myself against the phallic bedpost and my grandparents are in the living room.
the crows are on the fence and i run back and forth along it with my dogs and i think of 'the raven' and edgar allen poe even though i don't know what or who that is but i've heard it. the crows scare me as i think that they are going to peck my eyes out and i hope that they do. i look at the sun for too long and i want to go blind because i want to know what it's like.
my baby brother sits on me and i hate myself but i'm only a child
the guilt and the shame ruins me
we sit on the bed and i'm scared because you tell me that you want to go to hell because you know that your mom will be there. you don't want to be without your mom and i write you a song as if i know so much. my grandma hates me and she always has but she loves you and so does my mom and that is why i have my scar on my knee.
that boy kissed that girl and i'm angry and i hide in the tunnel and throw rocks at the inside and it makes such a nice clang but i know that i'm making a fool of myself but i don't care.
french fries taste good when you're eight and find out that your best friend got killed by his dad. but he wasn't your best friend but you tell everyone that he was and you've convinced yourself that he was too. the play place isn't good on a day like this because you always hole yourself up in there and don't come out and your mom worries so much and today you would really hole yourself up in there. the second half of this memory is a lie.
squeeze my hand baby, please, squeeze it quit being so unresponsive quit being so stiff i see that look in your eyes please squeeze it don't take it away before you squeeze it because i'm going to have to do it if you do because i promised myself this is the test just squeeze I feel you flinch please.
the pillow feels good between my thighs and i don't ever want to look another person in the eyes again and I want to sink into the bed and never leave
we race on stick horses around derby time and i can't think about anything but sex even though i don't know what it is but it's all that i've thought about since we watched fly away home and you knew what i was doing there in the sleeping bag
but i hated that blue puppet and it scared me so much that i wished that you would have left it at the church but i didn't want to take it off of my bed because i felt bad for it. i hid under the blankets while you were in my room and played with myself and i knew that you knew but i fell asleep before i could care and i dreamed about the giant blue puppet and it terrified me but i told it that i loved it when i told my bears and dolls because i thought that it would kill me if i didn't
dad took me to see a man all the time and he traded baseball cards and had a big white beard but i don't know his name and dad doesn't remember doing this and i wonder why I do. i remember the castle and the bag of chips that i ate there but i will never know what it was or who that man was or why my dad never made me do schoolwork.
the babysitter called me a pig and i sobbed as i shoveled down my cottage cheese and choked on the curds and felt myself balloon and heard myself oink.
you wrote me a note 'if i'm dead tomorrow it's all your fault' and i didn't know what to do so i told on you. we're not friends anymore and i'm sorry but i think that you're a bitch.
'times of sex 1000000000000' 'kassandra what is this?' 'micah wrote it i don't know what sex is'
the commercial is anti-abortion and I say 'that's terrible' and you reprimand me for knowing what sex is and you get mad at me when i talk about gay week at disney because i'm not supposed to know what that is either because i'm in third grade
surfin' USA on my swing and so many times we sat in the chair swing and talked about nothing i miss the sun and i miss my back yard and i miss lauren and britney and michael and chad sams and feeding britney feces on a stick because she thought it was chocolate. her house smelled like ramen noodles and i hear that she has a baby now. the roly polies were so fun to play with after a game of tornado.
you sat on my bed and we wrote in my diary together and i write something but you scribble it out, laughing. i remember it but i won't tell because i know that you wouldn't want me to. you can still see it underneath the scribble marks.
i've always hated my ga-ga and she has always hated me but i don't know why but she did something to me and i know this because of how much i hate her and never want to see her evil face again.
"she's helped me more than you ever could hope to, and in ways that you could never comprehend."
"thanks."
this isn't over just wait it will last forever it cannot end.
Comments
Post a Comment