myselfShe is a flaming contradiction; she is a neon-night mess. She hides but behind nothing. She is happy working behind the scenes. Wants to be noticed. Remembered. Honestly. She is that metallic star on your notebook that you pick at during class, she is a laugh you smile at in your head, she is a gorgeous catastrophe, she is tripping over her words which is bad news for a writer.. this is belladonna's ghost Wants to know but can't, knows too much to be uncynically faithful, idealistic, running on overdrive, small, gigantic, unexpected, open for commentary, everything.. Stares away while walking. Long, long fingers and hamyself
breakdown in 8 easy stepsi was terribly depressed in middle school. this was literally my mind.breakdown in 8 easy steps
then againYou were beautiful to me then again you were everything to me I relied on your opinion more than myselfthen again
You said you were working for me then again you could always justify yourself I now can't understand why I believed you
You said you loved me unconditionally then again you say, "If I'd seen your flaws I wouldn't have" So I did have to be perfect for you to love
You never wanted to hear explanations then again you never wanted to hear You wanted me to do the listening
You now scare me when I think of us then again I let you get away wit
Water Corey has melted all over the bathroom again. My father says that it's just a phase, but Corey is a person, not a phase of matter. I know this. I knock on the bathroom door, slightly insulted that the phone cord has gotten access, even under the door, before me. He bubbles, "I'm on the phone." The phone cord tightens, rubbing against the bottom of the door and my already-sore subconcious. I climb into one of the armchairs in the living room and try to be the opposite of Corey: rock-solid and beyond love. &nWater
Previous PageNext Page