if i pull my hood tight enough i can pretend i'm not really here.
2003-09-26 - 11:07 p.m.

instead of www. i type qqq.

instead of smiling, i frown. maybe my face will stick like that. and then even when i'm happy inside, no one will know. and i'll try to tell them i'm happy but they won't believe me.

as i layed on the wood of the play structure's castle floor, i wondered what i was doing. i wondered. i watched this one leaf flutter back and forth and the crickets were chirping and i felt alone. it was cold but i was warm everytime i inhaled smoke into my charred lungs. i was cold, but i was warm everytime i brought the cigarette to my face to inhale again and again. i was cold, but i was warm when you finally cornered me by the secret room at the bottom of the castle by the wooden train. i was cold, but i was warm when you finally kissed me like i'd needed all day long.

driving on, hitting home, flying up my drive way so fast that i had to slam on my brakes to keep from hitting the car in front of mine. so hard, that my body jerked back from the abrupt halt. i thought to myself "i'm home."

i sat on my bed with my sister and we colored pictures. i colored a picture of a little girl who had her head thrown back and her mouth wide open with what i imagined could only be a scream of anger. angerhatredfilthwrath. i colored and my crayons kept almost snapping in two because my hands are bigger than they were when i was little. my hands are filled with the tension of the anger my thoughts produce and it makes it hard to color without ripping the page. without breaking the crayons. bold colors. rapid motions. when i'm finished i hang it on the freezer side. i feel it's more appropriate since i'm freezing inside. freeze or burn. all else is only icing.

i trust you, love, it's myself i worry about sometimes. i believe you, it's myself that i doubt most days.

you fixed me again. now make sure that i stay together.

prev */* next