difranco

dialect and accent so often confused-
titillatingly temperamental, squashed between the line and the reason of nothing. to feel sick and have to battle over fields of peoples faces just to feel safe again. i'm know i'm on the home stretch when my name is called upon the loudspeaker; until the announcement "you're train is delayed by another heartbreaking insecurity".
the spectrum of indication leading one to believe in formal conquests and adoring love ranges for me simply within attention and devotion. attention is my fallpart, i balance far too much on the insecurity of self. having learnt the words "shut up" recently by one such love - i am devouring the chance to find redemption from my sins.
i ache with utter confusion at the silence. from moods i am happy and carefree till i slip and feel like tears should be rolling over my heated cheeks. maybe i ask too much when i know such cannot produce the exact ingrediant im looking for; and if i had it would my hunger be satisfied?


look at that. now who would place breasts - specifically the pierced nipple in full view of a society; one who had enough insecurities to fill a bucket? i am a mule and now i shall eat.

1:04am

expell that moment in short breaths. excluding the concept that love is exclaimed with sighs. lust is a matter of fact; more real than the synopsis of any love story. dead beat and riddled with infestation my heart pumps that blue blood around my body. just like it, when i am exposed to the air i wield in terror at the horrid torment of reality.
what do you read from incripted shapes classed as letters? an explanation of anger at this place? or an ability to fuel such contempt for the one thing i love most.