fresh baked cookies

Fresh baked cookies.
the smell
of love.

or lust.
I get confused.

It's the homemadiness
homebakiness

love.

It's what you smell like
when I nuzzle your neck

memories

of comfort, safety

childhood

I remember
a really really old lady
she baked cookies
the best i ever had

like stray kittens
we waited
outside her door for
hot gooey, crispy goodness
perfect.

i was never the patient one
i tried to sneak
steal
anything but wait

my friend
the nice one
the good one
(did i say the pretty one)
stopped me

afraid, perhaps. the old lady would see me
and siege all cookies!
forever!

I never stole those cookies
I wanted to
but never did

Yet still
today
i've done everything right
yet you tell me you're leaving

and the smell of cookies
is once more
a mere memory

5:39 PM - 11 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

To Sea

Do you know,
for one small moment
I caught the flash of white in the water

Off the corner of my vision
I thought it was you
I thought I saw you
a question in your eyes

I was more than ready
to throw you a line
and here you were not sinking
but striking out from shore

and the white of your hand
was the flash of good-bye.

12:48 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

regrets

I loved you once
Like a friend
nothing else
then your lips asked
perhaps more
I knew then it was a mistake
i should have listened
but you were warm
comforting
and i needed that
so did you
so the kiss became more
you said
"I love you"
and so did i
But it was forbidden love
you wife was my one of my best friends
and even though
you were divorcing
i still felt wrong
I asked you to promise
that this won't change us
that we will always love each other
as friends
but time passed
you fell in love
a good thing
I was in love also
you and I were just friends
playing with the idea of lovers
anything more was clearly a mistake
We made a promise
friends for life
but tonight
i find out that the only person
you failed to invite to your wedding
was me
how am i to take that?
so much for
friends for life

9:17 PM - 5 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Bitch

A cool quaking jagged monster is bubbling to my dermis.  It threatens to transform me into the bitch that I never allow myself to be.  It scares me because when I close my eyes, I can see what it's capable of doing. What I'm capable of doing.  What I want to do and could never admit to wanting needing desiring feeding feeling.  Judgments, you see.  They're everywhere.  And I fear that I can't contain it any longer.  It's not thoughtful.  It's certainly not pretty.  I wish I could quell this god damned monster for just a bit longer.  Forever would be nice.  Or even until it shrinks into grotesque numbed nothingness.  

I have to say - I'm trying to be optimistic.  It's made me smarter, too (see? optimistic).  A mother fucking genius.   I realized something this morning.  As I walked out into the frigid air, I watched my breath in front of me, and it dawned on me that it's almost not mine.  Not much anyway.  It belongs to this monster.  This hideous creature.  The icy wind warmed the insatiable chill inside.  Now I'm left with a pervading thought, the kind that borders on obsession - it's the notion that it is easy to think evil thoughts.  It might even be easy to carry them out.  The hard part is living with consequence.  Lucky for him, I'm always looking for the easy way out.

3:01 PM - 5 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Old Flames
Current mood: melancholy

There is fire, and then there are fires.

One is the torch which flares against the moon,
a flame under a gas stove
a candle, dripping wax --
the burning.
The other is the sun,
the helios, the crown of flowers
and the warmth.

To touch the one is to be burnt:
it requires not so much caution as constant vigilance.

The other cannot be touched;
no matter how radiant, the ball, it burns
a hundred million miles away
at the center of the universe,
and around it we go.

One is much a part of me as my own body,
and the other is life itself.

I love them both,
Neither can be sifted out
and I have learned that it is not so much a choice to be made between them
as a life to go on with living.

2:49 AM - 5 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

un-a-mused

What's a girl to do

when she no longer

has that

urge

  pull

    need

      motivation

        craving

          hunger

longing

  desperation

    addiction

       jonesing

        devotion

          obsession

    to

create

  share

    pen

      purge

        play

          produce

            breed

breathe into life

her words

her thoughts

her musings

her...

 everything?

5:49 PM - 12 Comments - 18 Kudos - Add Comment

untitled (repost)

I originally posted this about a year ago
Funny how much the meanings of things change
as time (and life's events) pass

And I wonder now
what I could have possibly been thinking
Although deep inside I still understand

But I wonder now about
the actual price of heart break
at what point do you stop
trusting your pennies at the bank
and begain hiding them
in a big zip lock bag
at the back of
a cold freezer?

This is the original post:

I look at you and wonder.
Are you capable of breaking my heart?

If you aren't
perhaps i did not allow myself
to love enough.

safe
like so many times before

but i know
deep down
this is not the case

and I wonder why
i am different
this time.

Are you capable of breaking my heart?

i believe perhaps you are
and I wouldn't have it any other way.

without risk
nothing is gained.

could you be the first one
i've allowed my open heart?

for such luxuries
heart break
may be a small price.

9:28 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Alone Time
Category: Romance and Relationships

There is nothing more satisfying than an afternoon alone.  Except for an orgasm, but that can hardly be beat.  That is biology – science – and biology has a way of trumping other things, orgasm biology anyway.  But second to this is the feeling of being wrapped in solitude.  And doing only exactly what you please in the moment you please to do it. Whether it be reading, writing, or listening to rain or music or your neighbor's arguments about pornography through thin walls.  Thinking about sex, while lying in bed.  Closing your eyes and playing scenarios in your head.  Letting yourself think of people you try not to think about because in reality it would be weird or awkward or unwelcome or wrong in the abstract way that doesn't make sense, yet is followed religiously.  Being selfish and thinking about them anyway.  Then finally letting go and masturbating slowly and eventually loudly, wondering if the bickering couple through the thin walls is listening.  Pretty sure they are.

The best one can hope for in a relationship, is someone who is good to be around when you want to be around someone, but knows to go away sometimes – maybe needs to go away too.  Rarely, you may even meet someone you can be around when you are alone.  I mean they are there, and you are there, but a certain part of you feels the freedom of aloneness.  This hardly ever happens for me.

Instead, I feel suffocated.  Alone time escaping out opened doors and ringing phones.  And when he is here he lovingly sucks lonliness from the room.  Why would anyone do anything besides engage with him when he is present?  Why would I read or write or check my email?  He is here!  And it turns out that the world does not revolve around the sun after all.

6:32 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

the photograph

i look at you
with distant familiarity
building castles
taken by the sea

or climbing trees
too high

I want to build
something new
climb
higher then before

taste the salt
on your tongue
and neck
explore the places
we couldn't
quite find then

I want to see
your eyes
again
with distant familiarity

9:47 PM - 7 Comments - 11 Kudos - Add Comment

tagged part III

I like to write my name
P R I S
in big letters
on the window when it fogs over.
I draw a hearts around my name
and then
lots of arrows
I think arrows look very phallic
when piercing through a heart
So I draw some flowers too.

suddenly it feels better

I breath some more
newly fogging the glass
and start all over again.

I love the rain
especially thunderstorms
But mostly i enjoy the smell
of the wet soil and bark
I want to make
a wet bark perfume one day
or one that smells like fresh laundry.

3:40 PM - 6 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment