snow

he said there was a bumble bee with a piece of chocolate in it's teeth. though i don't remember any bee having teeth. he was writing a script. do you think willem defoe would be interested. the star on the floor lights up the whole room. for a moment the darkness is sexy. i look down and see the curve....you know the curve where the ribcage meets the hip. the red creeps over the line and shines on your lips. my eyes close. i see paintings of new mexico. they are forced through my eyelids and the paint is splattering on gray matter. i lost you somewhere in between arizona and seattle. without opening my eyes, you are gone. if i could be sorry, my bed would weep. i hate the blood on the wall, on the bed, on the door. i hate the bruises on my wrist and the holes in your heart.



since you asked....i write what comes from my mind and travels out the tips of my fingers. if i quote something, you'll know it. quite a few people have been asking me if what is in my journal is mine....and of course it is. you crazy pirates.