the light in the midst of the eclipse

You remember when I used to love you?

Between my sheets

countin sheep

tryna find my way back to tha dream

where ur tatooing my skin

wit a apple red hickie

and i'm beggin for u to slide

off them dickies

cus baby

aint nobody ever touched me

like the way the tips of your

fingas love me

bathe me in they sweet

caress

and try at cradling

my b-cup

breast

but since ya mama home

caint do wat we want

more or less

and ya bed is a tattle tale

i think it got a loose

nail

cus it rattles when

we get down to

tha real nasty

beg u baby

i just wanna

fasty

but ya cockblockin

brotha is crafty

and sneaks around the

corner to catch ya

creamy handed.

got my love so moist

you can create

cobwebs between

ya fingas.

tha lust still lingers

even when you stop

for real real

and tell ya moms

to drive me home

so that we don't loose

our heads and decide

to

bone.

Boy you got me thrown,

tossed out the window,

nose open,

sprung,

but love without consequence

is the privelege of bein

young.

when moans are not

groaned but

sung

and bustin a nut

don't mean you done

and ya nites can be spent

waitin for the phone ta

ring

and bein only about

that thing

that wraps you around

its middle five

and break up and wonder

if u still

alive

but then you get

on yo grown man

and still dont but

deny to not

understand

but every once n awhile

take yaself back

and remember me...

oh damn i'm slippin from

this dream,

and it was gettin

deep

too

cant wait tommorrow

to see you

and make what was

jus and intimation

of the mind become

true.

i love you

and if ya don't know

and can't guess

get a job, get ya check,

and buy a clue.

 

Back in Chicago

I was a feign for attention

no matter what kinda trouble

it got me into,

I always thought a medical

life was what I was going

to pursue.

But I changed my mind,

like innocent, little kids

do sometimes,

and I decided that bein

a

 

Loose

Loose as your pronounciation as you say,

'baby im yours.'

Loose as your lips when their softness brushes mine.

Loose as the ponytail that gently slides from its rubberband into a wild mess

upon my shoulders,

Loose as the ivory pitbull next door that wont stop screaming for its dead mother.

Loose as the neighboors who shot its mother so that she would stop fucking around and having mutts.

Loose as your grip on me when you're inside of me about to release love...

the space between me and you is never loose,

the lock of our eyes is tight as the grip of gravity upon the Earth,

gentle, hard, but slow strokes never loose,

my bite as you send me into an orgasmic climax is not even close to loose..

but the way I'm writing now, expressing my feelings to you so bluntly, putting myself out there...

....now that's loose.

I.N.N.O.C.E.N.T

Thought I was deep in l-o-v-e

young and wise in the same sentence is a contradiction,

took me seven lovers to realize that sex

was my only addiction

With a head full of poems, not dreams,

I strode into his simple ghetto born life,

had his mother mad because the good black girl

he'd found acted white.

Innocent as they always are,

I started out acting fresh.

Had him thinking that I was a queen,

sometimes more, but never less.

Until we boned,

had ya girl de-throned,

cause I good girl doesn't have a deep throat.

The only dude,

yah that shit was true,

until I ran into my next door neighboor

with his heavy game, and caramel brown skin,

and southern drawl that drew me in.

With breath like honeydew and weed,

a lykadaisikal mentality,

and compliments that girls really need.

So the innocent one got down with a one night

thing,

enjoyed the shit out of that and went back for more.

And when HIS rivers ran dry,

on to the next.

Damn, the first love of her life was vexed.

But he had no say because he was in and out,

just like the sweet, big dicks

she could never live without.

Innocent never had big dreams but she never was

the cheap, easy type,

she just knew the difference between for life,

and just for the night.

But the other chicks, that buy into the hype,

dismissed her for another, filthier

trifling type.

Whose to blame cause Innocent lost that

title,

cause Innocent aka Khadija Hulon thought

she'd fallen in l-o-v-e.

Young and wise together in a sentence is a contradiction,

now ya girl, Innocent knows

that "love" is nothing but a cruel work of fiction.

-love and peace,

be out.

short story:

Guilty As Charged

Innocent clung to the bit of Earth he had to call his own, right beneath his feet. The other block boys rode the cement outside of Petey's liquor store on 117th, joking shooting the shit until their next customer pulled up in a souped up ride straight from the disco ages. Not Innocent, he stuck to what he knew: quiet. Instead of being the loud one, he was always the first to listen and observe. Being a loner fit his dark, handsome features anyway. His tall, lean physique. Black as an eclipse with beautiful bambi, whiskey brown eyes that were framed in long, mahogany lashes and thick brows.

Beneath all of the dark mistique, there was exactly what his name suggested, straight up innocence. He was sixteen going on seventeen and a pure as water virgin. That in itself was a rarety and damn near miracle for growing up in the hood, as he and his two brothers, Knowledge and Granite aka G had.

The day was coming to an end and Innocent had a three rolls of fresh twenties in his socks to show for it. In exactly five minutes, there would be a beat up '75 Chrysler Towncar to pick him up, playing the same Jeezy song his brothers were always bumping: "Ima tear that pussy up..." He was searching for its signature broken front headlight so that he could cut out of the trap and get himself home to a fan and a fresh pair of CK boxers. The Chicago heat was killing him.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead that was making a dotted line down into his pretty eyes, and squinted. That is the exact moment she walked by. The female he and the block boys saw often making runs into the liquor store for flamin hots and blacks for her brother, Leroi, a lazy ass, highschool drop-out, banger with nothing to do except bust any nicca in the head that had eyes for his fine sister. With her flawless, glowing, brown skin and perfectly sculpted eyebrows above light gray eyes. She never received enough attention for her beauty because of her wild brother. But everybody knew Leroi was moving out to the straight country and the sight of her on a 90 degree day in some khaki shorts and a fresh white wife beater was enough to send any ghetto born boy over the edge.

"How you doin?" The dope bois cooed to her, peeping her large brown nipples that rose against the cotton of her beater when air condition from the store hit her. She looked around at them incredulously, perhaps wondering if the heat wave was making them suddenly brave to talk to her as they were. She raised her eyebrows over it and then ignored it. The gentle baby talk slowly took a dipping turn for vulgarity. "Look at that sweet baby ass.." Some grown man commented, "Mph, Leroi better put a lock on that ass for I tear that little tight thing up."

"Damn, that bitch is fine."

That was the line that sent her swooping around on her heels and had them all scared. She was showing signs of carrying her brother's blood within her veins.

"Exuse me?" She hissed like an aggravated anaconda about to shoot venom from its fangs. The boy who said the last comment stepped up, trying to show his boys he wasn't a punk.

"No, exuse me, shawty. What's your name, lil mama?"He said. She looked him up and down, lingering to comically widen her eyes at his cheesy ass fake gold chain that looped the words D Money in zirconian.

"I recall a second ago it was bitch. Do I look like I walk on four legs to you?" The dope boys looked around at eachother while Innocent stood back from the scene, still glancing down the street to check if his brother's were about to swoop down. He could tell they were all surprised at her proper accent. Leroi was a straight hood child, so how did his mama raise this articulate "lady"?

"Damn, lady. I'm sorry."

"Damn skippy you sorry." She said. "I wouldn't even wipe my ass with that lame game you spitting. Step to the next hood rat, cause I'm not the one."

That was when Innocent cracked up. He had to fight to hold his composure. She'd clowned him. There was no way, he'd even look at her ass now as she fixed to walk away. His plan was to stay staring at the fresh new Jays on his feet. But the sun was hot on his brow and as soon as he looked up, his eyes met hers. At first he thought from the way she paused halfway off the sidewalk that she was about to come over and beat his ass for even looking her way, but instead saw the softest, most gentle smile appear beneath her striking features. He began to go over, to tell her how crazy the scene was that had just happened, but his brain wasn't quick enough.

In a blurr, the nicked, rust eaten Chrysler pulled up to the curb and someone yelled,

"Ay yo, Guilty!"

That was his brother's nickname for him since they were in diapers.

"Shit, get in the car, wid yo black ass. Lookin like a skid mark."

She across the street, and quick as a driveby, was gone.

The next day, she was there, smiling and leaning against the brick of the liquor store before Innocent had even gotten there. Her coke bottle shape was fitted in a small t-shirt with the words: Slippery When Wet scribed across the chest. It stopped a bit above her hips, showing a flaming brown slice of skin above her jeans.

"So they said they call you Innocent." She said softly, taking a little swig of her orange Fanta.

"That's my name." Innocent replied taking his usual place, which was right next to her. He'd never even tried to holla at a female before, so this experience was adventurously new.

"Oh forreal? Your mom actually named you Innocent? That's tight." She commented, flashing her gorgeous white smile the whole time. He just nodded, squinting his eyes in the harsh sunlight.

"What you up herr for? They say your brother, Leroi crazy." Innocent glanced over at her and she nearly melted.

"Don't believe everything they say."

"I coud tell you the same thang."

"But they were right about your name, weren't they?"

"So far as you know." Innocent was enjoying teasing her. Besides, he knew no other way.

"Well, Innocent, whatever the hell your name is, my name is Kisse."

Innocent looked over at her, giving her luscious body a once over and just nodded subtly. "Come on, are you really what your name says you are? Or are you just quiet all the time?" He wasn't quiet with his brothers. "What? You got a girl?"

"Nope."

"Then try me. Look, here's my number." Kisse took out a pen and gently grabbed his arm, scribbling her name and number in large letters across his dark skin. "Call me. Maybe you can come over one day. My brother's moving so you dont have him to worry bout okay?"

Innocent just stared at her pretty self, getting a kick out of watching her tremble. It was probably her first time ever hollering at a boy as it was his first time having a girl holler at him. She bit her lip and nervously soluted a quick bye to him, leaving immediately as someone does when they think they've fucked something up. Innocent could do nothing but laugh on the inside.

G and Knowledge loved clowning him when they saw their youngest brother climb into the Chrysler with a female's name and number hardly visible on his arm even though she pressed the pen hard.

"Damn nicca, with yo black ass. I'm surprised the bitch wanted you!" Granite chuckled, getting a kick out of watching his little brother lower his eyes. He was scared, and both brothers knew why.

"Shit, Guilty. I knew it. I knew it!" Knowledge squealed like an excited ten year old.

"Knew what, nicca?" Innocent fronted, staring out the scratched, dirty window watching the hood flow by in a whirr of fading colors.

"You a virgin!" Knowledge finished.

"Oh shit! How you pull dat, Tre?" He was the third born.

"Forreal, nigga. You sound too childish up in this car. I aint a virgin, I just aint never got no girl before."

"This yo first, shawty?" G asked.

"Yup." Innocent answered slowly.

"The way she pushing up on you, she want it. She want the McKay beef. I say give it to her. You our brother, so I know you packing. Fuck and get it over with." He said.

"No, G. Uh-uh. That's all wrong." Knowledge informed, as they pulled up to the small brick house in the middle of the Roseland hood. "Lil bro I'm tellin you, this is your first time. Take it slow, feel her out, let her do the same. I'm telling you, shit will unroll itself. Just take your time, and wear a gotdamn rubber okay?"

His brother's words rode him as Innocent paced Kisse's littered sidewalk leading to her front steps. His legs were shaking he was so nervous.

When he reached the door, it swung open before he could even knock.

"Get in fore my mama friend see you and tell er you here." She said hurriedly.

"She doesn't know I'm here?" Innocent asked, handing her the single rose he'd picked out at the corner store.

"She's at work." Thats when Innocent looked down and realized that Kisse was wearing nothing but a short DKNY dress, nipples poking up and out again like plump raisins. It took everything inside him, to hold his lower half down. He took a seat at the sunken couch and hoped she didn't notice as she followed his lead. "Can I ask you something?" Kisse inquired, Innocent turned to meet her big doe like eyes, grey and stormy as a raincloud.

"Yeah, what."

"You a virgin?" Damn. Had he given off that vibe that fast.

"What of it." He decided not to even front.

"I know. I knew you were the minute I saw you. You're so fine, Innocent."

That was the first time he'd heard that statement. Usually somebody was always talking shit about his complexion. "Your skin is so black and smooth. It's like this wood they call mahogany."

"Mahocany?" Innocent scrunched up his nose.

"Yeah, I wonder if your dick is the same color."

She said it so non chalantly, Innocent thought he'd heard wrong.

"Huh?"

Kisse gave him a wide sexy smile and ran her tounge across her plump bottom lip.

"I said, what color is your dick? I don't have to ask if you're packing. I already know you are." Innocent followed her gaze down at his lap, where the length of him was forcing up off of his thigh. Innocent was so surprised at her boldness, the words had escaped him, not that there were many to begin with anyway.

Without a word, she unzipped his jeans and dipped her hand inside, struggling to pull his dick out the hole in his boxers. She saw no need for underwear since his penis was basically sticking down and out of them anyways. "Dammnnn.." She whispered when it was out and pointing skywards. It had to be at least eleven inches long. Eleven inches that scared the shit out of her sixteen year old self. She tried to hide her fear and bit her lips in anticipation. "Don't be scared." She said in a hushed voice, pulling her dress up so that Innocent could get a clear view of her young, hairy pussy. "You ever seen a cutty before?"

"In flicks." Innocent answered honestly, crawling over to her like a new born and stroking at her clit quizzickly. She instantly became moist and he wondered what it would be like to taste the red wetness that pulsed infront of him. With a slow, even stroke, he ran his entire tongue up her twat, savoring the sweet, tart, unique flavor of Kisse's pussy. She moaned, pulling the dress up and off completely.

Innocent leaned back up and kissed her for the first time. Her lips were soft and warm. He almost shrank back when she surprised him with her tongue. He manned up and caressed hers back. As they tongued passionately, Kisse worked on getting him undressed. His shirt was the first thing to come off. Kisse paused to admire his dark beauty. His skin was even and rippled by the toned six pack he held.

"My, my, my, my. Innocent, you're perfect." She said, laying wet kisses into his chest, lingering at his nipples, sucking them lightly and then swirling her tongue on his bellybutton. With one smooth motion, she swiped off his pants and boxers, taking his thick mandingo dick into two hands. "Him too." She commented, taking the pink tip of his dick's head into her mouth to suckle on. It was Innocent's turn to moan. He never knew a girl's mouth could feel so inviting. Kisse came back up to give him her tongue again and Innocent laid her back on the couch, spreading her thick honey complexioned thighs. From the look of her pussy, she was a virgin too. He saw no huge opening. Nothing but pink and red flesh.

"Can I?" Innocent asked, looking into her dizzy, passion filled eyes.

"I picked you, didn't I?" Kisse replied. "Now put it in. Slowly, though."

Innocent climbed upon her and placed his dick between her legs, sliding it across her slippery vagina as he'd seen in the pornos.

Slowly, he eased his manhood inside her, tensing when she squeezed his shoulders.

"Ohhh, Innocent." She cried, clinging to him like a weeping child. He held her tight and worked his shaft in and and out, trying not to go unconcious. He'd never imagined sex could be so devine. He felt so good inside her tight, wet pussy. His dick felt as if it were on fire, about to burst into flames from her heat. "Oh myyyy Gooddd.."She breathed, beginning to rotate her hips on him, sucking him deeper into her puddy with every stroke. "Innocent p-please..."

"Baby, I think I'm ab-bout to c-cum." Innocent stuttered, feeling her grip his ass and force him down deeper into her.

"M-me too."

The two teenagers held on to eachother for dear life, trembling as the tingling overtook them both like a wave of lightning bolts. Innocent felt Kisse trembling beneath him as he secreted his first nut into her.

"Oh my God." Kisse breathed after it was over and her first lover was laying next to her on the living room floor. She was naked as she had ever been and still out of breath.

"Did it feel...did I make you...?" Innocent inquired.

"Yes. Yes." Kisse sighed affectionately. She was so beautiful. Even the persperation beading on her forehead was sexy to him. He really wanted her again. He wanted to feel her muscles grip his manhood at least one more time. One more time before he awoke from his trance. "Now they can't call you Innocent." Kisse joked, bringing a smile to her lover's face.

"What will they call me by, then?" He was thinking Daddy Mandingo or Sweet Dick Willie...

"Guilty."

"Guilty?" Innocent smiled, looking up at her. "I could get used to that." He smirked. "I could definately see that as my new name." The edge in his voice was pure sarcasm.

Finally- his virginity was taken.

Innocent,

now guilty.

 

Motherr's cockblocking the computer again

Mama sleep downstairs

and I can't bust a nut

with her eyes open, plastered

to HGTV

Nipples hard as rock candy,

sticky with sweat,

im dick due,

even if I have to recieve

my sex from the t.v. or

you tube.

 

i saw him happy with someone else today

I cant help it,

gotdamnit I cant help it,

he's on my mind,

Tim, tim,

try to get the name outta my system

like bowow

but God don't think its time

Can't move on...

got no one to move on to,

no one like...

you..

I can't help it,

shit, I can't help it.

Why does he- you- have to be

plastered over me like cement,

your smell imprinted on my skin

like a tattoo

that I was drunk when I got...

and now I regret it,

at the same time, my gut and my

ex best friend would tell me,

chalk it up to experience,

he's not worth a fleck of salt in your eyes.

One tear in the bucket,

fuck it.

But the look on his face was so cold when

he said goodbye.

Like he was over me,

like I pretended so many times to be over him,

laughing, faking the bullshit like my life was...

...it.

and you, him

his life seems to be nastalgically purrfect.

With her.. the dark skinned, raven haired,

girl that everybody thinks is cool,

and her... the african fashionista that

calls everyone boo..

I hate him - you-

But still I can't get over his laugh,

or the way he- you- held me,

or our favorite song,

Blackstreet- remember?

wanging while they sanging

lemme go...

deep?

How deep do you want me to go?

Do want me to tell you that I loved you

from the waves in your fade to the tip of your

Puma covered toes?

And that I didn't care what clothes your wore,

or your weight?

And everyone that clowned you

recieved my hate...

or do you want me to tell you how sorry I am

for fucking you over

because I didn't understand how to get you back

for breaking my heart all those times..

Tim, he, whatever... I hate you

but still cant get you out my fucking mind.

-Khadija

 

I finally got him out of my head when this happened:

Ten oclock rolled around and we were still in our first kiss,

your London bridges fell down like minnesota when you felt my lips,

eleven oclock came and your tongue was lashing on my fingertips,

twelve and that tongue was placed in the creamy center between my hips.

You ate me with your whole mouth, even stuck your nose inside,

then lashed and bit my nipples, , I didn't know if I could ride.

You even sucked my toes

damn I never had anyone do that shit before

the dick action was okay, I've had better

but the way you stuck me with your tongue

ooohh damn nobody, I mean nobody...

I couldn't hang,

had me sweating and you STILL

wanted more.

'He could go for hours,' you sighed, looking down at your dick,

my dick actually, I had to take a lick,

that's when I had you, moaning like you had me screaming,

but its okay because the favors you gave me were BEYOND intense.

I never thought I would do something like this.

Never. Especially with you.

I was going to play the innocent card.

But shit, you're guilty.

I'm glad you revealed who you really are.

Sorry Ms. Person, your son is a FREAK

had my pussy throbbing, and now I'm walking

with knobby knees.

 

 

Mr 69

"Jez, why are you even messing with this internet dating shit?" I ask my best friend, twirling a #2 pencil around my fingers, waiting for her to get done toying with her lap top so we could get to some economics homework. She was a notorious procrastinator. This time it was getting on my damn nerves.

"Cause its fun." She answered, never looking up from the screen. Her hands were murdering the keyboard, typing faster than pitbulls hump. "You forgot about that word, huh Mikey?"

I rolled my eyes. She'd been calling me that boyish nickname since we met in our freshman year at Ole Miss university.

"Yup, just like you forgot the word: study." I retorted.

Jez turned with the most unnerving grin she'd made just for me.

"Just get your granny panties out a bunch and look at this dude I found on here!"

In an attempt to make her happy so we could continue studying, I leaned down to see what she was talking about. My jaw almost hit the ground. I swiped for drool around my mouth, never taking my eyes off of the chocolate skinned brotha that was flexing his eight pack on the computer screen. The profile name underneath him shouted "Mr. 69: The Chocolate that melts in your Mouth!" As cheesy as it was I couldn't help but squeeze my thighs together and bury my head back in my Econ book.

"Okay, I looked. Now can we please, please get back to this Econ homework?"

"Isn't he fine? His name is Naaziq and I've been chatting with him for about a month." She said, ignoring my words completely. "He said he was born in Sudan but raised in Chicago. Just like you!"

I rolled my eyes and pretended to be engrossed with property value. "He's in Mississippi now and begging for me to meet him."

"Do you even know where he lives? Or anything else about him? Forreal, Jez, I'll put my money on it that he's actually a seventy year old crusty white stalker guy. How much do you want to bet?"

"Whatever, Monika. Sometimes I think under all that bronze skin, you're a seventy year old grandma yourself."

Her comment took me aback and I quickly threw a pillow at her. "Just kidding!" She squealed, closing her lap top and jumping to hug me. "You know I love you, girl."

I'd been told too many random times that I was a seventy year old fuddy-duddy. It hadn't bothered me so much, seeing that up until the end of sophomore year, I'd been an over the top wild child with a reputation for being the first one to get toasted at a kegger. Infact, that had been the meeting ground for me and Jezlyna. Who was, back then a sweetheart for the Kappa frat. She'd been kicked off the varsity cheerleading team in our freshman year for excessive partying and we'd decided together to tone it down. I guess in the years between then and now I'd just toned it down a little too much. I was always the designated driver- or in most cases walker. Most Saturdays would end with me dragging Jez's drunk behind through the quad at all obscene hours of the night. But that was what best friends were for. One of us had to be responsible. I thought of this as I bit into a turkey sandwhich and tried to bring myself to read more of the painstakingly long and boring Jane Austin novel for my English Lit class. Before I could conquer another paragraph, Jez plopped down next to me with Junior, our flamboyantly gay friend.

"Guuuurrrl, I'm telling you. That man is fine. Don't listen to Monika's ole lesbian ass. You better ride that stallion." He was saying.

"Umm, why did I just hear my name and lesbian in the same sentence?" I asked, looking up.

"Don't try to pretend you don't know. Wheres your man at? And how long has it been since you got some?" He drawled from his twisted up smart alecked lips. When I didn't answer, he tossed his eyes up towards the ceiling and brought them down on me. "That's what I thought."

"Junior, please.." I said, stuffing my nose back into the book to encourage him to stop bullying me.

"Junior please. You need to be up under a fine brotha screaming that!"

"Well, I'm not a slut--unlike you two." I shot back, smiling as Junior's mouth flew open.

"Oh I know you di-int! Jezzy, who was the main one tossin back shots and dancin on top of countertops at frat parties. Cus it wasn't me?! Okay?"

"Yeah...who was the one who got head from Alex Moore in some corner of the library. Cus that wasn't me either!" Jez added.

I just rolled my eyes and tried to remember what getting head even felt like.

 

No Air (Titled only for the song I was listening to when I wrote this)

I need for water just as much as my lungs gasp for the air

-oxygen to breathe

I need clothes in the winter and faith

and forgiveness

but I don't need you, baby.

I need the sun's caress to keep me from submerging into

the sea that is my stress...I need happiness as much

as I need peace..

but baby, I don't need you.

Still, like I thirst for a crisp breeze flowing through

the summer heat, and the smell of bar-b-que mixed

with weed,

and Grey Goose Vodka, and the laughter of just

being around the people who adore you the most...

as my feet twitch with eager pleasure when they

sink into the soles of sticky flip flops

just to switch down the block

with daisy dukes, a strawberry shortcake ice cream, and

crazy cool hoops

waiting for the screams of men in souped up cars with

lifting brows and cocky smiles

the smell of summer...

I want you.

I want you.

 

Jay

You are a complexity.

A laberynth that I am forever studying

with tired brows that are always raised with

the unease of surprise,

trying to train my countenance not to betray me

intrigued to the point where falling in love would seem

easier...

I figure that my infatuation with you is not unlike

that of the name of an old song I'm fighting to remember

or the face in the crowd that I just cannot

place..

fuck. You've played me out of my role.

[ (lmao) As stupid as that poem probably seems to the outside viewer, it really is true. Isn't confusing people and not really giving a shit ][supposed to be my role? How the hell have I met my match already? ]

 

Kev

Simple. Shit, you're honest

So cool you make me feel comfortable everytime

I kick it with you..

somethin you know who could never do

I think of your face everytime I pass

jelana's locker..knowing you'll be standing there

twisting in your combination in seconds..

or maybe..to my dismay not at all..

but hating the way you're such a down low dude that

saying hi is like mission impossible

sometimes it has me wondering...are you just keeping

ME on the DL??

Is this just a fuck..and if it is I guess I couldn't be

mad at all..

cause you never said it was anything more.

and I trust your word and respect you

more than almost anybody in their adolescent years

that I know.

Cool. Suave. With a long, smooth dick that's pretty

but not as long as you know whos...

still your coolness surpasses his tenfold

i might just fall in love with you..

--on second thought maybe not

 

TAKE ME OFF THE BACK BURNER!!!

 

 

He watched me swipe two thick doses of Vikaden from an Advil bottle and slide them tauntingly onto my tongue. I chuckled them down as he snatched for the rum in my hands and failed. I inhaled the liquor like oxygen, scooting back onto the chaise like it was nothing. We were in a glass bubble. Around us, there was a small party forming as drunk underaged children danced and laughed, starting games of beer pong on a cleared pool table. His eyes never left me as I tried at looking sexy; dragging my legs onto the chair and playing with the necklace sleeping between the fold and meet of my breasts.

"Slow down, babe." He breathed, reaching for my thigh under the madness of our potent sexual attraction, which danced between us like static energy.

"Why? Why should I? I'm so fucking drunk...I don't give a shit. I won't care in the morning either." I can hear myself say. Two seconds before the words slipped off my lips, they sounded decisive and cool.

"You'll probably have either a hang over like a bitch, or be hitting a blunt." He says sarcastically. Although we both know that it isn't cynicsm at all. He's dead serious. And he's right. I shrug. "The real question is why can't you ever be sober?"

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" I ask, suddenly feeling the need to cut the bullshit.

"I want to. But not when you're like this?"

"What...drunk?"

"No; fucked up. You're trashed. You look like shit. And its not sexy."

This sentence sounds hard-core and should probably be responded to with a severe cuss out or a quick slap. But instead, just turns the completely shit-faced side of me on.

"You're wrong."

"Huh?"

"I'm not fucked up...yet." My eyes travel up from where I know his dick is lying on his thigh up to his pretty brown eyes and boyishly gapped smile suggestively.

"Oh yeah? You wouldn't."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh...you don't even know."

"Show me then."

My eyes drifted up him like an ocean wave, lifting over the horizon--as I dared him with the fire behind my stare. His tipsy, almost cocky half smile stayed as he ran one hand up my leg, still penetrating my gaze with his own. It was like a game of Nervous, but I never uttered the word. Syllables were not coming as easy now as the drugs and liquor kicked in at exactly the wrong time. His sentences slipped away from me, skipping over one another and seemingly taunting me with a painful dizziness. His hand removed itself and he drew in his breath. His aggravation seared the ends of the upraised hair on my arms. I tipped over as the pressure from him lifting himself up drew me in to a black hole.

"You know, you really should stop drinking..." Was all he said as he walked away, into the growing crowd, both of us knowing that I needed to stop doing a hell of a lot more than just that.

 

 

Inhibitions.

In a word: overrated.

Here I lie, undersexed,

cock tease elated,

a little green shaded,

with swollen eyes and a

lost ambition to care..

turned on by innocent stare

I wanted to do it then,

lay you to the couch, bed, whatever

and ride the slick, ruler lengthed erection

you think you suceed at hiding everytime

I see you...

Fuck.

 

Thirty-three floors. I couldn't have imagined how far down it actually was until I saw it for myself. Trying to ignore the gray beginnings of what was surely going to be a shitty day and ducking from the hungry stare of the officer that showed me the view with his index finger which was fat and greasy as a breakfast sausage.

"This is how far she dropped?" I asked casually, shrugging the strap of my purse farther up.

"Yup. Just stood on the balcony and jumped. Right into midday traffic too." The cop's heavy breath only worsened his round figure in the shadows of the minimalistic loft.

"Wonder how messed up she had to be to look down and still want to do it." I leaned over the railing and forced myself to see what she'd had to see in fresh Miami daylight. The daylight that shined intently upon her fashionably silk robed body and sheeny, raven hair as she laid so ungracefully on the top of some poor mexican's Astro van that hailed straight from the early eighties. I tried to picture how my sister's snobby but beautiful face must have looked as she plummetted thirty-three stories down into the middle of afternoon traffic. Onlookers say it was so much barbarric than the movies depict it. The head had smashed into the windsheild first- hard as a tossed bowling ball- while the body had came down a third of a second after it, landing with the same amount of intensity. I almost wished I had been there.

"Pretty intoxicated actually. I heard that pumped ten vikadens out of her as well as a shit load- maybe a whole bottle- of black label. Theres some vomit in the toilet still. Might have been more in 'er."

I grimaced at him. He'd been so matter-of-fact. Could he sense that I carried non-chalance so well because I did not- infact- care at all that my youngest sister was dead? I searched him, expecting judgement, but found none. This shit-head was obviously just a big dick and got a kick out of freaking out family members with the dirty details of their decieced. What an asshole.

"She was always a big drinker. And when she was barely fourteen my mom caught her smoking weed." Actually, she'd found weed in her drawer- weed that I'd bought- but who needed to know this. Chariv was dead now. "She was always a little loose too." I added.

"Yeahh...they found three samples of semen inside of her...so that rules out gang rape or something. Do you think something like that drove her to jump off the side of a fucking high rise?"

"No. She was just ungrateful. She used everyone in her life. Munipulated my mother constantly. And was always rewarded like a fucking golden child. She got everything. You know what they say about people like that. My sister on the inside was a complete wreck. The only thing men ever wanted out of her was a good fuck. She wasn't the brightest tool in the shed--"

"Yet-" That fat fuck interrupted me, "she had a million dollar loft, a celebrity boyfriend, and a rising PR firm that was eclipsing its 5th anniversary. Why would she want to kill herself?"

I could see clearly was he was insinuating he thought now that someone had pushed her.

"Yes, I know. It makes you wonder if some people think they're too good for life."

He gave me a weird look as I clutched my purse and headed for the door. "But I- officer- am not even good enough to be late for work. So...uh thankyou and I'll figure some way to make some poor shmuck buy this god for saken place."

He nodded but even as I left, I felt his thoughts burning into my back. He knew. But it made me chuckle because I knew that he couldn't prove it.

 

Hmm...now who is this about?

You got you all over my skin,

my hair is washed with your scent

and grip

and still I cant remember how it felt

to love you

Naked and breathing my confused love

into your neck and hoping it was

reciprocated and now looking at

you I cant figure why you have to

be imprinted in my memory

and I'm sure if I tried I could forget

you and forget that you were my first

for everything

and forget that being the first for anything

matters at all

You got you all over my skin,

your sin, your fake laugh and carefully

constructed smile, your deficiting self esteem,

your tenacity to put me down, and your

sweet manufactured lines, and generic niceness,

and the laughter that eclipses me everytime I

think of how everyone around you falls for it,

or just like me doesn't care,

You got all over me,

and for some reason, I cant get you off

with the same soap that I rinse off grime, and regret,

and loss, and suffering, old mistakes, and the new,

you are a permanent but fading tatoo, that has lost its

color but stays like a reminder of what was,

you are all over me,

and no water no blood

can rinse you away.

 

Picken Barrys

We fucked. ON the bed. On the couch.

In the air.

I took your virginity. Now what?

We don't flirt. We stare.

And smile awkwardly into eachothers

periphial vision.

And make prelonged hugs which last

almost as long as the sex could have...

And we joke. Joke about you pulling my hair.

About me biting your-

on accident, I swear!

Again about you pulling my hair.

We fucked. Don't you get it? Things will never

be the same.

Us flirting. You toying with ideas of me straddling

you. Your innocent attraction now profane.

Nothing is the same.

 

 

 

She says..

again and again that my lips

taste sweeter

and sweeter

with every touch and bite

whispers

with such intensity

 

"Its hard for me not to hold you in my arms, you fit perfectly."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I call for you into the deep dark agression that is night

Softly I whisper your name

tell me why the moon shined and the stars parted the clouds

but you never came

I twisted the strands of my hair and bit my lip for you, for you

lusting and hoping your intentions were the same

so tell me why you never came

Lost ambition, a blind tearful fight I had with myself

I stayed in that spot, the spot you told me to stay

waiting for the love that never came

Heavy silence pressed my body into the grass that night

slipped up my skirt and took an innocence I can't reclaim

and stroked me till I came and came

Its gone and you were not its theif, it had been yours to keep

until then waiting for you had kept me sane,

but still the night melted away, tell me why you never came.

 

 

I think I’m a slut.

 

Filthy kind of beautiful(story I’m posting)  story about deceit, seduction, a small town, and a beautiful girl behind it all.. can you handle it?

 

There are certain things in life that you remember distinctly. For some, it is the first experience of sitting on a roller coaster, or the fear and intense pleasure of feeling the warmth of foreign skin against places never before explored. For me, it was the day that I moved into the last house of my childhood. The memory is something like a small spark of light that I feed every once in a while; in the quiet moments. The funny thing is, I can't even recall the exact words that my husband used to propose to me, but I can picture that day as if I were sixteen all over again. I feel the brass window handles, the sway of the trees. I even know the exact temperature of the night. It was eighty-four degrees- a bit extreme for northern indiana. And then my mind sees her. She is always standing in a drenched camisole and soaked shorts, shivering under her curling, dark blanket of wet curls. The glinting edge of a razor blade is inches away from her shaking wrist. I was convulsing with fear, seeing her surrounded in a snowy bedroom with a canopied bed and ivory carpeting through that window. I still remember the sting of her eyes as her head snapped up and sliced into me with one glance. And still, in my head, she is bronze skinned and dark eyed. Cherry red lips parted open suggestively. Beautiful and dangerous as ever.

 

Terror ripped through me as the girl with the deep whiskey eyes smiled at me, slowly the blade slipped away from view. Her breast length curls swung behind her shoulders as she swayed to the window. Her hair caught in the cool breeze and for a moment she stilled. Her mouth widened a bit as if she were going to say something. Instead, the crimson lips closed slightly like a broken door. She snapped the blinds closed.

My face was white. I'd seen a ghost. A beautiful, thin limbed ghost with a cat like gait and full, aware eyes.

 

"Sian?" A voice called. Tawni rounded the corner into my room. I was glued to the floor in front of the window, still staring wide mouthed into the blinds that the mysterious girl had just shut. At the sound of her voice, I flinched.

"Hey, baby girl I was looking for you. What you looking at?"

 

"Nothing." I replied, turning towards her with my eyes cast down at her sexy wedge sandals, sloping up like hooker heels. She wore a blue jean mini skirt and EdHardy tee that stretched across D cup plastic breasts that my father had bought for her to make up for the divorce. She cackled to her friends that he was only doing himself a misjustice by making her look good for some other guy. I was completely sure that my father was fine back in texas, snuggling up to his twenty six year old at night.

"You hungry?" She cooed in the mother tone she was starting to use more often now. She ruffled my shoulder length, copper hair with french tipped nails and grimaced at them when she was done. "You..need a haircut." She wasn't talking to me as much as she was adding something to her endless to-do list. "I was thinking about having dinner in that cute little down town area they have. You know- the one we passed on the way here. What'dya think, Ladybug?"

I simply nodded. My stomach had been killing me. I hadn't eaten since the noon pee-stop in southern illinois. I tried to ignore the pet name that she had referred to me as. I wanted to tell her that it was only my father's name to use. But that would have wounded her worse than Daddy's infedelity had done. I guess she was trying her at replacing him already.

"Okay, good. Why don't you..take a shower and be ready to go in say twenty minutes?" I simply bowed my head. "Oh and what were you staring at in that window?"

"Nothing." I answered once again. It was the truth- or at least half of it. Even I, didn't fully register what I had witnessed. Or if the impossibly beautiful, drenched girl with the shaky blade and chocolate eyes was even real.

 

Tawni had been right- the town was nice. It was quiet and slightly old-world style with cobble stone streets and lamp lit sidewalks. Most of the stores were small businesses (knick-knack rooms and boutiques) save a Walgreens and Rolex.

Nothing was too different here than in texas. People still stared at my tall, mini skirted mother who flounced out of our small, silver Audi with a wide smile stretching across her pretty face and an oversized Prada bag bouncing against her thigh. I trailed her, only an inch shorter hiding behind a hoodie and scooting in two sizes too big uggs. We were shown to our seats by a perky blonde who asked Tawni if she was from california.

As soon as we'd gotten our food, my mother huddled into game plan.

"So, your father has agreed to pay for everything until I find a job. But how in the h-e-double hockey sticks am I supposed to work? I majored in psychology in college. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I don't know- work in an asylum?" She appeared not to hear me.

"..and where am I supposed to shop? This place is cute but it’s no houston i'll tell you that."

"When can I visit Dad?" I asked, with my eyes on the table.

"As soon as he gets off of vacation with his whore.” She snapped.

“Are you guys ready to order?” a waitress stood on the side of our table with a cautioned look on her face.

“We’ll talk about it later.” My mother said in a falsely sweet voice as she softly kicked me under the table.

 

My fingers shivered as my body suddenly tensed in reaction to the wind. The late night-early morning chill was blowing through the same open window that I'd seen the girl through earlier. It seemed she'd left a stinging tattoo on my thoughts. Even at the awkward dinner with my jealousy ridden mother, I'd been day dreaming about her deep, aggressive eyes and tensing, pouting lips. The blade slipped in and out of these intimations from time to time as I pretended to listen to Tawni go on and on about my father and his "child" girlfriend. She'd glance up between breaths to check if I was listening and found me nodding and frowning seriously as if contemplating what a dog my father was when in actuality I was wondering what I could have been seeing in that window.

The breeze came in again and shot up my bare body, fluttering the pages of my open diary like butterfly wings. I pushed myself up to close it. As I moved to pull down the window, I suddenly felt as if I was being watched. Bare as the day I was born, my freshly bathed form stood still, searching the side of the house next door for a lit bedroom. I found it and gasped when I realized that I was being watched. A floor up from where I'd seen the mysterious girl I spotted a boy there, leaning up against the glass; piercing dark blue eyes focused on me with a half smile creating a dimple in his cheek. It was then I remembered with a start that I was devoid of clothes. Gasping, I slammed the window down and rushed to my bed, pulling a towel around myself. He was still staring at me openly. It was a gaze that did not make me uncomfortable or squeemish. It was unabashed and kind as if he were simply interested.

I moved to my door and quickly flicked off the bedroom light.

 

"Remember me?"

 

I gripped my locker door, searching for something to say. These words danced on my tongue but didnt want to slide out. Did I remember him? I did.

From the window he had seemed much smaller, but up close like that he was nothing short of gorgeous. Those eyes burned into me like a cigaret lighter as he leaned up against the locker next to mines and gave me the same half smile that he’d offered the night before.

"You saw me n a k e d." I said slowly, wishing I hadn't a second after it came off my lips.

"Um yeah, sorry about that. Nice a** tho." His little smirk became a light chuckle. He adjusted the strap on his bookbag and glanced out into the hallway, nodding hello at a few people passing by. I wanted to say thanks but didn't know if it was appropiate. "So, where you from?"

I felt like I was about to either faint or vomit- neither things being good. He was almost painfully attractive. "You look like a Cali girl."

"Actually I'm from texas."

"Wow that's righteous. I love texas. Visted san an for a little bit with my family. If it werent for the cool town it would have been a hell trip."

"Yeah," I began to smile, growing more comfortable with him, "it is pretty cool there." I was talking about texas but wanted so badly to ask about the girl that stayed in the room a window down from his. I wanted to know her name. I wanted to meet her. I wanted to...

"Um, well there goes the bell. Gotta get to government, but I'll see you, okay?"

The gorgeous, dark blue eyed boi moved to go, starting down the hallway. I stared as he turned towards me and began to jog backwards, "Oh and my name's Kreigh." He smiled- a beautiful wide lipped and white teethed smile- spinning around on his heels to make a dash to class.

"I'm Sian." I was saying. I was sure he didn't hear me.

My mother had been right- people seemed to show a great interest in the fact that I came from a place many of them knew little to nothing about. The only thing was that I was slightly shy and awkward about recieving this random attention and did not know how to satisfy their peculiar appetite for wild party stories. By the end of sixth hour, the questions died down and I was as invisible as if I had been going to the school my entire life.

I walked back to my locker alone, gripping a notebook and glancing around me at the busy hallway. Girls grouped around the glass trophy showcase, giggling and answering text messages while guys stared and horsed around. As I exited towards the parking lot, I tried saying hi to a few of the people I had met in the complex contour of the day and failed miserably. They smiled politely and nodded, eager to jump back into a conversation with their own friends.

My mother's audi drew some attention as it swerved into the picking-up area. The top was down and her hair fell in loose waves down past her braless breasts in a hot pink camisole. A few guys stopped to gawk as she lifted up from the seat and yelled for me.

"Theres my baby! How was the first day, hottie?"

I rolled my eyes and moved to get in, answering in a sarcastic monotone,

"Just wonderful."

 

Holding a cup of tea and an alouffa, I stood next to the window. N u d e again and waiting for the light in the top floor bedroom to flicker on. My own were on. The brightness was a magnificent contrast  from the black night that was raging on outside. The crickets' buzz was unusually loud, making a beautiful chorus with the wind and burping pond frogs. The night was alive and I could feel it pumping through the breeze, which blew over my exposed flesh like a boy's warm breath. I felt so bad like this, taking the chance that he would be in that window on this beautiful evening. I waited.

My mother's knuckles rapped on the door and I jumped, tickled with nervous energy, hurrying to throw on the robe on my bed. I hung slightly over my shoulder as I pulled open the door to let Tawni in. She stood in a tiny yellow night gown with a smile just about as bright.

"So, was it great?" She asked. "Tell me the truth."

"It was okay," I said, still holding the door. "I met some people. A lot of them really wanted to know about texas."

"See," She grinned even harder, "What did I tell you."

"Yeah, Mom." I breathed.

"So, bout to take a shower?"

I shrugged and fondled with the rope on my robe. "Have a goodnight, okay sweetiepie?" She turned towards her room and began to walk away.

"Mom, I didn't make any friends today." She stopped and faced me, seeing the sadness in my eyes for the first time. Taking my face in her hands she said,

"But you will."

That was the beginning of everything.

(excerpt: I’ll use this part a little later in the story but better to use it now than later)

 

Saturday I found myself glancing back and forth from the flat screen in the living room to the clock, praying that the time pass faster. It was something about silence that ate at me, along with the humiliation of feeling completely transparent at my new highschool. My mother was already out with some single women she'd met in the neighborhood having drinks. This only served as further embarassment.

My entertainment in this new place had solely revolved around my curiosity with the neighbors.

My boredom eventually led me out to the back yard, where I settled in the uncut grass and ended up staring into the stars. Usually the night sky frightened me. It made me realize how small and insignificant my life actually was. Tonight, things were different. I was calmed by my miscellaniousness on the Earth and began to figure that it felt good to at least belong to one group vaster than any high school clique. My thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of snapping fingers.

"Are you retarded or something?" A voice asked from above me. I quickly bounced to my feet, immediately seeing the shadowed figure on the house next door's roof. I heard a few clicks and her face came to light by the fire of a lighter. Her perfect, round lips gripped a cigaret and her smooth features tensed as she struggled to light it amidst the blowing wind. When she was finished she sucked in her first puff and fixed her brilliant hershey eyes on me.

"No." I answered softly, crossing my arms over each other. I noticed she was barefoot and wearing old stone washed jeans and a wife beater that clung to her slim and curvacious frame like child does its mother. She brought the cigaret to her lips again as she sank down into an indian style position. Her head tipped to the side and I could feel her eyes running over me; sizing me up. "Do I look retarded?" I meant for my voice to sound controlled and confident but it ended up cracking and sounding like an insecurity.

"You get this look on your face," She said, pushing smoke out of the side of her mouth to stain the air like chalk on a blackboard. "this like blank stare that looks just a little bit retarded." The last word ended in a small chuckle. She took another puff.

"I'm Sian." I don't know why I want her to know my name so badly, and from the look on her face, I guess that she's wondering the same thing.

"Hm," she says, nodding sarcastically as she ashes over the side of the roof, "Your Mom- that's who you live with right? She's got huge boobs."

"Ya, I know," I giggled to myself, "kind of a present." For awhile, I stood while she sat and we just stared at each other. She smoked and I breathed. It was the first time I'd ever felt comfortable not having anything to say. "I saw you that day in the window didn't I?" I said suddenly; without thought. I immediately regretted I'd said it and gasped, looking up at her nervously. She didn't seem as if she'd heard it.

She was finished with her cigaret. Her long fingers flicked the roach somewhere in the grass. It quickly ignited from the impact and then died as if taking its last breath.

"Well," She said, "See ya."

I didn't have time to say bye or ask her name. Strangely enough, I seemed to be satisfied, but my curiosity- my burning desire to know everything about her- had just begun.

A few days passed, slowly but surely. I was no longer watching the window. I'd set up camp in the backyard and took afternoon naps there on the porch swing and made picnics at midnight. I hadn't seen her again. But just like the last time, as soon as I began to give up, is when she appeared.

 

She leaned boredly against the railing of the porch flicking her tongue over a strawberry ice cream cone that was melting rapidly in her hand. I opened front door, catching her with the sugary bubble gum pink substance running over her bronze complexioned hands. The look in her dark whisky eyes was seducktively apologetic, almost flirtacious. Almost as tantalizing as the length of her blue jean cut off daisy dukes and salmon pink tank top that showed a slice of golden skin right neath her belly button. She pulled her dripping hand to her red, bee stung lips and collected the drops of cream from her knuckles as if it were an invitation. But quickly enough, these suggestive expressions faded and were replaced by an absolute innocence.

"Hi," She offered me, not seeming to be bothered by the surprised look on my face.

"Um hey." I responded hesitantly. For the first time, I had enough gumption to stare directly into her eyes, which were a deceptive shade of brown that seemed to lighten like heated honey in the rays of sun seeping from the window and boil when gazed into. The ice cream she was holding was completely melted. She realized this and ditched it into the grass as if she'd never had a second thought. I began to protest but she stretched a smile across her beautiful face and took my hand.

"I'm Ro." I watched her lips say this, wondering all the while how someone could be so perfect.

"I'm-"

"Sian, I remember." Her eyes probed into me and her hand dropped. There was something magnificently strange about her. I could sense it. It was like tasting something that is familiar, yet you cannot place the sensation. She was still for a moment. "You like ice cream?"

 

 

It is something so tainting and perverse about the stare of dark eyes across a crowded room that can shake a man dry of his values and all intimation of good sense. These were the sensations gripping the lungs and tounges of the simple rural suburbian men crowded into the dairy queen as they were greeted with the smooth, swaying rhythm of Ro's hips as she walked in the place dripping with sweat and sensual energy. There was a small tinkle from the gold bell fixed atop the door as we entered. I felt nervously hyper as the glint of at least twenty male eyes fixed themselves upon Ro and I. She seemed not to notice at all. Soon they lost all interest in me and began to follow my friend's lengthy and bare legs like lonely puppies.

                "Can I help you over here?" The voice of an elfish looking girl with chopped black hair and almost completely ivory skin made me jump. The way the tiny rocker babe's pierced brow raised at me, I knew I had looked quite awkward and weird. I also realized that the whole time my eyes had been trailing behind Ro too and hoped against everything that no one had seen this.

                "Uh..yeah. Sure. Um..." I searched the menu above the girl's head for a treat that wouldn't make me sick from its sweetness.

                "Oh and just so you know I have all month. So please, take your time." The girl spouted with an easy slide of tongue and inexcessive twitch of her heart shaped mouth. I was instantly embarrassed.

                "Oh, oh, I'm so, so sorry. I-I've just never really- well I don't come here often..."

My rambling was returned with a blank, careless stare. "And you don't care do you?"

                "Not a bit. So what's your poison?"

                "I guess a caramel moo-latte."

                "Great. So I guess you're new, huh?"

                "Yeah, new. I know this is kind of a small town but that's kind of weird. Do you know my name too?" I asked, expecting to get a laugh but instead received a bored look from the girl.

                "You're out with her, so you must be new or freaking crazy. Five dollars and fifteen cents."

I  handed over the money frowning, glancing across the room, I  noticed Ro leaned over a booth, tracing the glass window like it was artwork. The thirsty eyes were still on her.

                "Why does it have to be all that? Ro's nice. She was the first person here that said hi to me."

The girl snorted and shook her head, gesturing for me to move over.

                "Can I help the next customer?"

                "No, why?" I pushed, staying in line.

                "Everybody knows that she ruins lives. That’s just kind of her job. That's what she does. What about her does it look like you can trust? She's a parasite. But you'll see. Now…can I help the next customer?"

 

The comment was firm but shook off ten seconds after I walked away, holding the ice cold moo-latte. I joined Ro at the booth and was greeted by a warm smile.

                "Flirting?" She asked.

I laughed and scooted into a chair.

                "Flirting? With who?"

"The skanky emo chick. It's okay, she's kind of hot in a self-mutilizing way."

                "I'm not like that."

                "Not like what?" Ro asked, staring me in the eyes and biting her bottom lip teasingly.

                "You know…gay."

Her eyebrows raised and I began to stammer. "I mean I really don't have a problem with it- it's just not me."

                "Silly, it's every girl once we get a few drinks in us."

She pushed off of the window and sank further into the barstool, spinning around to face me. I was caught in her hypnotizing stare as she took my moo-latte from my hands and sipped.

So beautiful. So dangerous.

We made our way back on the same winding country road from where we'd come. We were both quietly watching the sun melt into the horizon and somehow Ro had taken hold to my hand without me noticing. I stared down at hers, with its long, graceful fingers and short nails painted a dark- almost black- blue. Some was chipping at the corner of her thumb and I studied it until she said something.

"Let's rename you." She suddenly halted and swung around to face me, grinning deviously as she released from my grip and placed her palms on my shoulders. I didn't know quite how to respond, so I simply laughed,

"I think Sian is fine." I answered light heartedly. She shook her head slowly, her eyes narrowed.

"Not half as sexy as you are. You need something a little more androgynous."

I returned her smile back to her, biting my lip like she was constantly doing. My attempt at immitation caused me to bite my lip a little too hard. I winced and then nodded.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Lux." She said. The name rolled off her tongue like a dirty spell. There was some kind of dark magic behind that one syllable word that accomplished sexiness effortlessly. I liked it.

"You don't think its too...boyish?" I asked. She locked foreheads with me and took my cheeks like my mother did from time to time. The look in those eyes was devilish.

"It's perfect."

We reached our street just as the porch lights began to come on. Ro immediately parted from me and began to walk up her driveway without so much as a goodbye.

"Um, hey!" I called out to her, nervously twiddling with the house key.

She stopped but only turned her head, sweeping her veil of hair to the other side. "You want to hang out again maybe?" I waited anxiously for her answer. She half smiled and nodded, whipping her hair back over and slipped into her house.

 

"Shhh....you still want to hang out?"

I stared down at Ro who was below my window, holding pebbles that she'd been throwing at it. Her hair was now in a loose braid that curled halfway down her torso. She wore the same camisole as she had earlier that day. Her breasts were still missing a bra. She was so casual, so naturally stunning that it almost sickened me. I looked down at my own pajamas of cotton shorts and a t-shirt and wondered if I could ever pull it off.

"I said I wanted to hang out, but not at..." I glanced at my digital clock, "one o'clock."

"I never specified when." She was all riddles and coy jokes. I loved it. "Come on Lux." She cooed my new name and I chuckled. Forgetting all about my outfit, I signaled to for her to give me a minute and hurried to slip on some flip flops. My mother's sleeping pills had taken effect and had her knocked out on the couch while the jeffersons' played on nickatnite. I rushed out of the door and eased it closed behind me. When I turned, Ro was behind me sporting a raised brow and holding up car keys.

"I didn't know you had your own car." I gaped, following her into a hot red old school camero. She unlocked the doors and I sank into the passenger side, relishing in the leather seats. I ran my fingers along the interior in total awe. I wasn't a gearhead whatsoever but there were certain things-amazing things- in life that deserved the attention.

"You like it?" It was more of a statement than a question. Ro's eyes sparkled in the filtered moonlight. I offered a dazed nod. That was quite enough of a response.

"Your parents got you this?" I asked.

"Of course not- it's my brother's."

I was speechless as she turned to pull out the drive with the lights completely out. An adventure was about to begin.

Going 70 miles per hour down a pitch black country road was a rush. My hand and foot were stuck out of the open window, pushed back by the force of the wind. My head was bobbing along to the music and my eyes had been pressed closed.

Ro drove like she was racing in an arcade game. She demolished the accelerator every time the car slowed past 69 and rocked the steering wheel like it was a newborn.

"Lux!" She yelled above the deafening music.

I banged by head harder and began to flounce my hair about, thinking she was asking for more. "Lux!" I put on a show for her, leaning back into my seat and kicking my legs up. "Lux, open your eyes!" She screamed this time and I immediately dropped my feet, throwing my eyes open. I was staring at nothing but blackness. Darkness fell all around us on the small road. All that could be seen were the shadows of the cornfields beside us. She'd turned off the night lights. I screamed and clutched my seat as the car sped up. Ro was laughing maniacally, throwing her head back and letting the dark chuckles spill from her. "We're about to drop, baby. Everybody hands up!" As soon as she said this, she threw her palms up and we lifted off the ground. I knew we were in the air because I could feel the wheels spinning but not connecting with the ground. It seemed as if we were there for minutes on end. Finally, we hit the ground. The car bucked upwards as if rebelling and then came to a screeching halt. I flung the door open and almost fell out into the night. I caught myself from tripping, though, stumbled for a few more steps and then collasped in some tall grass. Ro had killed the engine and flounced down next to me with a pack of cigarets in one hand and a hot pink lighter in the other.

"Tell me you love me for that! That was awesome, right?"

"You could have killed us." I said this softly and deliberately. My elbows were planted in soil and I stared at her in a sort of disbelief. Iwatched as she lit that slender, black cigaret and inhaled it, pushing the smoke out of her nostrils like a snorting dragon.

"Sorry to break the news to you, babe, but we stay dying every day." She swayed towards me using her hips to propell her. Slowly with her eyes always on me, she dropped to her knees and crawled to me, rolling to her back when she reached my shoulder. A giggle spilled from her and she smoked again. I looked down at her and rolled my eyes.

"I have plans," I said, "I want to live past this high school bull. It's got to get better."

"It must be nice to live in your world, Lux," She flashed me another   dazzling grin. "The grown-ups that we envy are the same damn high school bull shitters. They just have longer legs and bigger bank accounts."

"I think-"I said, "That has to be the saddest thing I've ever heard.

"Best advice I could give you, "She brought the onyx cigaret up to her lips again, "Mmm," She sighed, "tastes like cinammon."

School was a dream. I waded through it with the same slow, dazed progression as if I were navigating through the sewage soft ground of a pond. The six hour day seemed to float by unnoticed. On this day, it seemed instead of being invisible; the world was transparent to me. All I saw was Ro's beautiful face with its deep, magnetic eyes and swollen, cherry lip glossed lips. Sixth hour came and went and I glided to my locker on the clouds of daydream. I stood there for minutes gazing into nothing; twisting and twisting my combination in and failing. My mind wasn't on retrieving my books, it was on that night.

After she nearly killed us, we headed home. There was a silence between us, but it was strangely comfortable. I could feel that it was okay that I had nothing to say, and Ro was a kind of person who didn't waste time talking. She knew how to just do and not say. That ride, I stuck my foot out the window, mimicking her. She glanced at it and laughed.

"That's right, do like Momma," She said, "I'll never teach you wrong."

With that she turned- eyes off the road- and dug straight into me with her whisky browns. I fell into them head first, and was not able to climb out until she had returned them to the street ahead.

"Get out." She'd said playfully when we got to my driveway, but strangely she didn't kill the engine, she simply shifted gears and smiled at me, "Gotta go, Angel. Sleep tight."

"Wait, you're not going in?" I asked. She simply threw her head back and chuckled, blowing a kiss at me when she was finished.

"Bye, darrling."

 

"Sian?" A voice sucked me out of my dream, and I snapped my head up from my locker to follow it.

It was him. He stood right in front of me with a chestire smile and his book bag slung over one shoulder. I'd never noticed before his long hair that swept sideways over his eyebrows and curled playfully at his ears. He pushed it back and out of his eyes with his hand and I just stared.

"Um, h-hi." I finally stuttered.

"Hi." He nodded. "I'm in this purgatory we call high school, but where are you?"

My eyes widened and I waited for some words to tumble off my tongue. "I guess anyplace is better than here. Can I come with you?" He asked. My eyes widened and I waited for some words to tumble off my tongue. "I guess anyplace is better than here. Can I come with you?" He asked.

I managed a small laugh and he smiled triumphantly. "You do talk, right?"

"Yeah, I do, I'm just kind of out of things to say sometimes." I admitted, not knowing why I did and regretting it two seconds later. I wanted to hold my mouth closed.

"That's okay, Sian. Everybody gets those moments." He said this seriously. I nodded and grinned against my own preservation. "Well, I've got to go, but I'll see you." I nodded again and watched him walk away and turned back to my locker.

I stood waiting for my mother in the area reserved for mostly spoiled suburban freshmen carpooling in huge luxury s.u.v.'s. I checked my watch for the fifth time. My mother was unbelievably late. Before I could even pick up my cell phone to call her, it vibrated and I knew that she was going to tell me that she wasn't going to be there. I quickly estimated how many miles there were between my school and our house. I came out with seven. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to force me into meeting people. I shook my head angrily and sucked my teeth, wanting to call her out of her name.

"Hey, Sian!"

I looked up to see Kreigh hanging out of the same vintage Camero that Ro and I had stolen a few days before. His arm was down and out the window, caressing the door of the car like a newborn baby. "Need a ride, don't you?"

I was smiling hard and didn't care if he knew why. My hands ran along the same smooth interior that they had that night Ro took me on an adventure. I wanted to throw my leg out the window too. I burst out into laughter when he asked proudly,

"So have you ever been in one of these beauties before?"

He glanced over at me with a mixture of surprise and subtle hurt. I quickly stopped and exploded with word diarreaha,

"You know how you think of something from the past? Something funny that happened to you before but you're just now remembering it? And you just start to laugh like you can't help it? That's what just happened."

It was his turn to laugh, he nodded,

"I get it."

Embarrassed, I sank into my seat. "So, is that really your mom I see you with sometimes?"

"Yea," I say, embarrassed all over again. "She looks young for her age."

"Tell me about it. I thought it was your sister."

"Yea, I know. Every guy always thinks she's so hot and everything. It's quite annoying."

"No, that's not what I meant," Kreigh said, "I just meant that she doesn't dress like a Mom."

"It's okay, I know she's pretty. Every guy I've ever liked or dated- I know- would rather date my mom than me." I said this looking out the window, not really caring how he would respond. To my surprise, he laughed,

"They need to be slapped. I guess your mom might be better looking than your regular housewife but I'd rather look at you."

I gasped quietly, not knowing what to say. It quieted and I stole a glance at him, wanting to say, 'That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.'

I slipped inside the house with a grin spread across my face, gripping the sides of my book-bag with all of the left over intensity of the five minute ride with Kreigh. I looked up to see my mother standing in the foyer with a bowl of ice cream and messy bun on the top of her head. She raised an eye brow and pursed her lips, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

"You want to go somewhere with me?"

It was nearing eleven and I had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about my intriguing neighboors. Ro and her piercing eyes haunted me just as profoundly as Kreigh's ever shifting, slanted smile. When I heard the hushed whispers coming from next door I'd thought it was Ro beckoning me to another joy ride. Instead, when I came to the window, I saw Kreigh leaning out of his sister's window. The small light swimming around him was muted and I wondered where she was.

"Why are you in there?" I hissed at him, trying to suppress my tumescent excitement.

"Don't worry about that." He said, "Will you come with me?"

"Well where is-" I began,

"I'll be in the car." With that he turned and was sucked into the dark of Ro's room.

 

"Do you think its wierd that I'm doing this with you?" He asked as we knocked away the dark peice by peice with the high beams going eighty. I wish he knew how impossible it was to top his sister's level of innapropriateness. "I mean I don't even really know you that well, so is this wrong?"

I chuckled,

"It's criminal." I said. Kreigh turned and gave me a quick, surprised, and slightly impressed grin. I returned the gesture hesitantly, realizing that I sounded more like Ro than I'd ever intended.

We suddenly swept off the main road, turning onto a small, dirt path twisting through a veil of tall trees and leavage. We continued down this hidden trail barely wide enough to fit Kreigh's humming muscle car. Finally at a gate that seemed ten feet tall. We came to a stop and he killed the engine, staring at me as he did.

"Well, come on."

I pushed open my door and stepped out, pushing my hands into my back pockets. I had no idea what I was in store for until Kreigh sank one foot into the opening of the metal weave of the gate. His fingers gripped above him as he pulled himself up and over it, landing smoothly on the other side.

"Oh, no,no, no. You're crazy." I giggled nervously, walking up and running my fingers down it. Kreigh pressed himself against the gate where I was, locking me in with his flourescent blue eyes that appeared neon in the glint of the moon.

"Please, Sian." He pulled out his bottom lip and playfully whimpered like a lonely puppy.

"Well since you pulled out the puppy dog eyes..." I gripped the gate and struggled to hoist myself up. I lifted one leg over and found my stuck straddling the gate in a painful position. Kreigh burst into laughter below me, falling onto the ground, convulsing with the hilariousness of it. "You're not going to help?" I pleaded.

"Oh, right." He jumped up watched as I attempted at swinging the other foot over. I failed and instead fell right into his arms. I stayed there for a minute, staring at him and wondering how parents could have spawned such physically perfect beings. "You're not heavy at all." He said sarcastically, grunting from my weight.

"Be nice." I warned, pointing at him with my index finger. He set me on my feet and snatched up my hand, breaking out into a run down what I hadn't noticed was a huge hill. That is when I saw where we were heading.

Seven feet down, the grassy knoll became peppered with sand, eventually leading to a rocky beach surrounding the largest pond I'd ever seen.

My mouth dropped open in awe as Kreigh led me further down.

"What is it?" I asked. "Is it a lake or something?"

"It's actually a landfill." He said as we slid down into the deep sand that sank our feet and slurped in our sandals. We fell on our butts at the edge of the water. "They were trying to build some kind of plant or something, but what they dug up was the lake. That's what we call it anyway."

I nodded slowly,

"It's beautiful in all that moonlight."

"Yeah, you are." I glanced over to see that he was looking at me with the same searching stare as his sister. "I can tell you don't know it yet."

"That's because I'm not," I protested immediately, "that's more my mother's area."

"Well, where's your dad then? I mean, if you don't mean me asking."

"He still lives in austin with his new girl friend and my mother hates him. Well, I think she hates that he's actually happier without her."

"Sometimes it happens like that. My parents aren't really happy together anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated, but it's mostly about my sister-"

I had never heard him mention Ro before and I was eager to hear what he would say.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, gripping his arm. His countenance immediately shifted to something much deeper; more sad. Suddenly, he looked up and it was gone.

"You ever been skinnydipping?" He asked with a quirky half-smile.

I folded my arms around my chest, wishing I had four so that I could cover all indecently exposed parts of myself as I waded waist deep into freezing pond water. I stole a quick glance at Kreigh who was treading the water a few feet from me with his back turned so that he could not see my nakedness, although there wasn't much he hadn't already seen.

"You sure you didn't peek?" I called to him. I heard him laugh and nod, bringing his hands up to push his wet hair back.

"May I turn around now?" He asked. My toes lost connection with the sewage soft floor and I submerged into a blanket of warmer water, getting my hair wet immediately. I screeched out in shallow anger and he chuckled again, turning- without my permission- to look at me. "That little scream was cute. Wonder if I can get you to do it again."

I knew I was hidden under the dark consistency of the pond water but the way he looked at me made me feel as if he could see all of me. The glint in his eyes reflecting off the moon sent a jolt of lust through me. I stopped swimming forward, refusing to let him see the red blooded want written all over my face. To my dismay, he began to start towards me, staring into my body which I reminded myself was concealed well under the water. When he was within three feet of me, I thought that he would stop but he didn't. He was bold and swam so close that the tip of my nose brushed against his chin. I trembled nervously when I realized that our bare chests were millimeters away from touching. I inhaled shakily, trying to cool the fire growing in my throat and lungs. It was perhaps the first time I had ever heard my heart thump so loudly. It was if he'd heard it too, the way he reached out and put his dripping hand two inches under my collar bone to feel my natural rhythm. I let out a soft, frightened sound. "See," He said, "told you I could get that out of you."

Our eyes connected and I shrank back at their blatant intensity- literally. I pushed myself away from him and splashed water in his face. He laughed and nodded, "Guess I deserved that."

 

"Sian," Kreigh was lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head and shirt laying across himself. I was on my stomach next to him in my jeans and camisole trying to comprehend how we had gotten into this position at all.

"Huh?" I responded, cupping my chin in my palm and staring up into the stars.

"Why don't you know you're pretty?"

"What kind of question is that?" I answered, turning over onto my butt with my arms behind me. I looked at his comfortable, slim torso with its small contours and indented pectorials. He had the kind of body that swimmers pray for.

"Most girls know when they are pretty. You don't. Why is that?"

"Pretty doesn't matter."

"Actually, it counts for a little bit more than ugly people want to accept."

"My mom is pretty," I said, "didn't look like it got her very far."

Kreigh nodded and grabbed my hand, turning it upwards and running his index finger down its sensitive palm.

"I've only known you for a day and I think I'm in love with you."

I scoffed and snatched my hand back.

"Trust me, you don't love me. I have doubts that my own father loves me so how can you?" I snapped. I hadn't meant to display so much emotion to him and hated myself after I had. Surprisingly, it did not faze him. He kept smiling.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I can't love you, but I do like you."

He took my hand back and kissed it, leaving a trail of warmth climbing up my wrist. I simply grinned and let him. "Oh yeah," He slowly lifted his open lips from my skin, "and I did take a little peek."

 

 "You little slutty-duddy." Ro lie on my bed, legs elevated against the wall, sucking on a grape tootsi-pop. "You gave my brother some, didn't you?"

I was crosslegged in my computer chair with a book spread over my lap.

"No, I didn’t." I protested Ro's knowing smile. "We didn't even kiss." I explained to her, looking at my hand; the one thing that Kreigh had touched with his lips that night. Ro took her legs down and sat on the edge of the bed, moving behind me. She used her feet to roll the computer chair closer to her and wrapped her legs around the chair and my waist. I could feel her breath in my ear as she spoke,

"But you wanted him to." She said.

I turned to look at her, subconsciously closing the book that I'd been pretending to read. Her lips were inches from mine and her smile was wide.

There was an intensity pulsing with life between us. Our breaths synchronized and caught with silent waiting.

"So what if I did?" I finally said. With that, I turned and pulled her legs apart, scooting my chair back to where it had been.

"Well, he is hot- I guess. But, Lux, you can do much better." There was a hint behind her tone and I followed it.

"What's better?" I inquired. I used the tips of my toes to spin around to look at her. She was now lying on the bed with one arm behind her head and a coy look on her face. She jumped up with sudden excitement and started for the door. My widened eyes followed her and I quickly questioned where she was going. It was a Thursday and I was sure she had nothing to do. Her answer was short and sweet:

"Put on your sluttiest little skirt and meet me at the car."

 

I throw my head back and let the mystery pink concoction shoot down my throat. I barely taste the contents of the double shot glass as they somehow avoid my tongue and go down quick.

"So what do you think?" One of Kreigh's friends ask me, taking a gulp from his cooler and bobbing his head to some techno remix of a Kanye song.

"Much better than the jello-shot." I admit. And it is. I don't, however, stress that I'd better stop soon because I'd never touched anything but rubbing alcohol before this night. Kreigh pulls me against him with one arm proudly and lets out a loud whoop.

"You gotta try some Tanq or maybe a little Jaeger." Kreigh sing-songs. He's trashed. I can see it within the red veins crisscrossing across his eyes.

"You want to drive home? I mean, walk." I say, remembering that his sister has the car and even if she didn't, there was no way he could drive. I expect his friends to protest, but they don't. The boy sipping on a b&j daquiri nodds knowingly and gives Kreigh's open palm a little dap.

"Go handle that." He says, laughing.

We make our way from the kitchen and move through the thinning cluster of complete chaos, stopping shortly to cheer at a game of beer-pong starting up on a covered pool table. When we get outside, most of the cars are gone. Kreigh stops and looks at me, bending over and sticking out his cute little tush.

"Get on." He giggles. I get a running start and jump onto his back, laughing as he staggers and then stabalizes, beginning the mile long walk to our gated community.

"So you like me, huh?" I begin.

I brought my covers up to my chin, enjoying the feeling of my warm, washed skin against the Downy softened sheets. My eyes closed and I eased back into my pillow dizzily, descending as if I were falling through moist clouds of cotton candy. I was undoubtedly drunk and irrevocably happy. I smiled wonderously, thinking of how sweet it had felt to press my open lips against Kreighs, to shudder from the brush of his fingertips on the back of my neck and neath my chin; the way he said:

"You are so much more beautiful than you give yourself credit for."

I was about to sink into a sloppy, vodca induced sleep when I felt something tap against my toes, and then something even heavier press on top of me. I struggled, against the sudden weight and snapped my eyes open to see Ro above me. Her eyes were dreamy and faded, lips redder than ever and parted slightly. I stared up at her, pinned down by her straddling position. Thick tendrils of her dark hair fell into my eyes and against my face.

"What happened, Lux?" She asked, brushing her cold fingers against my cheek. Her eyes were fiery and more intense than I had ever seen. "Tell me." She suddenly growled, suddenly grabbing my arms and shoving me down into the mattress. I gasped in surprise and pressed my eyes shut again and it was like Kreigh was kissing me all over again, tip toeing his fingers up my shirt, clinging onto my hair and yanking my hips towards him. "You dirty slut! You had sex with him, didn't you? Didn't you?!"

I didn't know where this aggression was coming from and it frightened me. Her eyes narrowed and I watched her hand raise and come down hard on my face. I yelped out in pain. In sudden reflex, my fist came up and connected with her breast. She paused, staring in unbelief at where I had hurt her. I took the chance to take hold to hair, gripping a chunk of it into a fist. She screamed as I pulled her inches to my face.

"What! Is! Your problem?!" I yelled in her face. Her teeth were bared like a blood thirsty wolf. I tightened my grip and asked her again.

It seemed for minutes on end, we stayed that way, with her on top of me, nose to nose, breathing raggedly in the pitch black bedroom. I am not sure how long we stayed in that position before I loosened my grip on her hair and she kissed me. I hesitated at first, but she sucked my bottom lip and I gave in. We grasped at each other hungrily, wantingly. Pulling and feasting on our before supressed desires. When we finally parted, I was out of breath, but she merely smiled and planted a kiss right side my ear, whispering afterwards,

"I love you. I always have and I don't want you with him. Ever. Again."

I read the expression on Ro's face intently as she said this. Her eyes were darker- her lips even were fuller- than usual and I could feel that she was swollen with some emotion that I could not read.

I heard her words as echoes. The bounced and faded off of each other like the muffled sounds you hear when you are submerged in water. There was no way she could love me. The more I gazed at her, the more I could see what was happening so clearly. There was something surreal about Ro. I couldn't place it, but I felt as if in that moment as she hovered inches above my face, staring shamelessly, that she was not really looking at me. It was as if she were really contemplating her reflection or- an even bolder idea- glaring lovingly at someone else.

 

The next day, I found myself wondering through the hallways of my new highschool with a new profound sensation- I was awake. Usually, I drifted from class to class, not really seeing or hearing anyone or anything, but on this day, I was strangely attentive. I felt like a hydrocodine feign who'd ran out of her perscription. At lunch, I carried my books to the same empty table that I'd inhabited since the first day and felt an intense rush of loneliness.

"Hi." A voice said from behind me. I turned around with my fingers on my temples. A headache was beginning to churn like the start of a tornado. I wondered was I having a hangover.

I'd half expected it to be Kreigh, though her voice was much too high to come from the throat of a boy. Her face was familiar. Dark make up was painted skillfully upon her keen features. Her smile was mahogany red. The lipsticks contrast against her bleach white teeth reminded me of a vampire. She was pretty though, in her own little interesting way. "I guess you don't remember me." She said, running a hand through her short, pixie- chopped hair.

I shook my head, regretting it immediately after the shocks of pain struck in my temples.

"No," I said. "but sorry, can you just forgive me, because I feel awful right now and-"

"I told you she was trouble." The girl said.

I stopped my whining and looked up at her. I remembered her. That day at the dairy queen spun through my head. Before I looked back up, I had never noticed that my eyes had drifted elsewhere. The girl had abruptly got up and walked away, leaving me searching stupidly for her in the crowd of my school mates.

Very soon after lunch, I started wondering about something that I kicked myself in the shin for not asking before: why did I never see Ro at school?

 

That night, Ro and I layed in my bed with my bedroom lights out. We were side by side with our fists locked together. My ipod was softly playing a Me'shell Ndegeocello song that Ro had insisted I download some hours before. "This is how I feel about you." She had said. We were on our backs, both smiling and sharing secrets. It was like the night before had not happened. Ro turned on her side and ran her free hand through my hair.

"You are my best friend." She said. "The most important person in my life."

"Ro, you can't be serious." I said, following suit and turning onto my side as well.

"Lux, I am." She smiled, and slapped my cheek lightly and playfully. "I don't have anyone else."

"That's stupid to say. You have your family. Your brother- is amazing." Kreigh's wonderfully magnificent face appeared in my thoughts. Ro saw my mind and turned her soft caress course and ungentle.

"Listen to me, Luxie. I am dead to them."

I saw the seriousness in her face and lost the need to correct her last sentence. I knew what she had meant.

"I get it," I said, placing both my palms on her cheeks and easing her head down into my chest. "If anyone gets it, it's me. I'm the same with my dad. I mean, he doesn't give a crap about anyone but himself. He just left me and my mom to rot. I know whatever they did to you had to be bad to deserve all your hate."

"Luxie, I don't hate them, though. I want them to see me, but they just don't. They don't love me enough. They don't need me enough. It hurts that they don't even pay attention. Not even, Kreigh."

I held her as she began to shake. It felt as if she were crying and I lifted her chin to wipe her eyes dry, but when I did she was just staring at me with those haunting, dark eyes and there were no tears.

 

"I want you to see something." Ro said, squeezing my hand tight.

I was trying hard to controll my loud breathing. I wanted to pant or to run.

We were inside Ro's house. It was after hours- it had to be twelve and we had broken in from her window. I could hear the snores coming from the rooms upstairs where her faceless parents and Kreigh slept. We crept down the hallway, tip toeing and supressing giggles like ammature theives. "Here." She said. We stopped at a wall of pictures. It was a smorgasbord of family memories: pictures of Kreigh splashing in water on a vast, endless beach; an infant Kreigh laughing wildly as his mother held him in between her bared, crossed legs on a queen sized bed. It wrenched of the eighties. I traced the framed photographs with my index finger. As expected, their parents were as equally attractive as their children.

"Where are you?" I asked excitedly. When I turned to her, she was pointing upwards at one larger photo. As I focused in on it, I realized that it was a close-up of Kreigh holding a baseball bat and flashing his signature grin for the camera. Behind him was a crowd of on lookers relaxing on metal bleachers. I was confused. I was about to give up on looking for Ro and then suddenly, I saw her. I could not believe I hadn't seen her there, standing obscurely away from the people. Her hair wavy and almost black, lips redder than I'd ever seen on a child. Skin pale with the exception of her rose colored cheeks. She wasn't smiling. No one was holding her lovingly or tickling her so that she'd give the camera a smirk. She was alone and placed much to far away to be in full focus. Still, the most bizarre thing about it was the fact that her eyes pierced straight into the flash. Although she were the background, when I spotted her, it were as if Kreigh dissapeared and I only saw her.

"You were gorgeous." I told her. "But why, why are there no pictures of you?"

"I told you, Lux. You are the only person who really sees me. You are the only one that cares."

I had been avoiding Kreigh.

We hadn't spoken since the night we'd drunkenly screwed on the side of my house. Our actions had immediately sobered us up like a hangover concoction. I remembered sliding down from under him and fixing my clothes without a word between us. He had this look on his face that could have meant that he was sorry that it had happened the way it had, or of surprise that I really wasn't going to talk to him after the fact. In truth, I was scared.

Now, that fear enveloped me again as he spotted me crossing the hallway to my locker. He'd been talking to a group of his friends and looked as if he'd stopped mid sentence. I could tell he was going to run after me. I was right, he ran for it, calling my name loudly much to my embarrassment.

I halted reluctantly and turned to face him. He reached me a little winded from his short sprint. A wide smile was exposing his beautiful white fangs and I couldn't resist it. I had to grin back and fall a little bit weak kneed against my locker. He moved in front of me as he had that night and took me by the waist.

"Where have you been? I've missed you." He said.

"Its only been two days." I responded lightly, trying to pretend those days had been easy as pie for me to withstand without seeing his face. How could I have admitted that those fourty-eight hours had been a careful duck-and-dodge on my part to stay away from him? What was the easiest way to say: I like you, but your sister told me to stay away from you?

"Oh, so I get it. The sex was horrible and you don't want to see me again?"

I could tell he was joking. He and I both knew that it had been great. "How many times did you....?" He whispered to me, leaning in to run the tip of his nose down my neck.

"Kreigh!" I whined, enjoying the sensation of his breath against my collarbone. "Stop..." I was saying, even though I couldn't stand the thought of him actually obeying me. He pressed his lips against my skin. I pushed him away and he chuckled mischievously. "This is going too fast." I admitted.

The way he nodded seriously, I knew he'd contemplated the same thing.

"I am in serious like with you, Sian." I breathed out a sigh of relief that he hadn't said "love". He simply laughed and cupped the side of my neck with his hand. His thumb tickled softly over my ear and I took his arm and kissed it gently at the wrist.

"Ditto." I said.

I could tell something was wrong as soon as I saw the glint in Ro's eyes. She sometimes got that little fleck of light caught in her rum soaked eyes. What it reflected was frightening. It was a side of her that I had never fully seen. Except maybe when she had slapped me.

She was smoking a cigaret a usual and blowing it straight up into the air as you do when you are engulfed in a crowd. Her legs were crossed and she was leaned back with her elbows in the grass, puffing and blowing. The smoke took funny shapes against the night sky. I toyed with the idea that every time she blew, she was sending bits of her soul out into the universe. Perhaps that was why she was always so cold when I touched her. That made me think of how long it had been since we even brushed skin. I reached out to finger her hair. She flinched and then looked up at me. The back porch lights illuminated her face and it was then that I saw her worn, red under eyes and the fast flash of a sharp blade. It disappeared quickly and I wondered had I ever really seen it.

"Ro, what's up? Why are you back here?" I asked her. She sniffled and choked a bit as if she were crying. As always she had held back the tears.

"Luxie, they hate me." She trembled, pulling me down to the ground with her.

"Who? I'm sure they really don't." She nodded as if there were no doubt.

"They're making me leave. I came into my room today and all my stuff was gone. Those bastads have been packing my stuff into boxes. They took out my treasure box. I keep my special cigs in there. And they've just effed everything in there up."

"Aren't you going away to college, though?" Sian guessed. Ro looked as if she were about the age to be going away to college. It was strange to her that they were so close and had never had that talk.

"I suppose," Ro answered softly, "but why did they have to do my things like that without even asking me?" I'd never met Ro and Kreigh's parents. I had simply seen their highly attractive, smiling faces in the pictures, wrapping their arms around Kreigh. Ro had painted a descriptive picture of them, though and in my mind I saw them as those kind of people who were ostentatiously cheerful twenty four hours a day. Kreigh was obviously the favorite of the family. He was the center of everything. He had his own car, photographs chronicling his life at each stage. Ro might as well have been non-existent.

She took another drag and looked up at her house. We realized at the same time that her light was still on. Shadows moved behind the shut blinds and we both looked at each other. She ashed her cig on her cowboy boot and handed it to me. "I have to go. I won't let them do this crap to me without at least a little punch back." She swayed away from me, her hips swinging methodically like the uvula of a bell. I hated to see her go, but for some reason was so addicted to watching her walk away.

Tawni was home.

This wasn't a good sign whatsoever. I moved slowly around her as if she were a rare grecian bust. It was then I realized why it seemed so strange that she was in the house. I hadn't seen her for days. And even though she was seated at the kitchen island spooning haagendazs strawberry icecream into her mouth and staring down at the phone- because I imagined that was what a regular stay-at-home mother did on Thursday nights- she was dressed like she was going out to a club.

"Um, Mom?" I said, rolling the term around in my mouth and savoring its unfamiliar feeling.

"Huh?" She answered, still slurping in the ice cream and staring absent mindedly at the cordless phone.

"You're home."

"Wha? Yeah, I'm home, but not for long though. The girls are swinging by to pick me up in a few."

Just what I had thought.

"Oh." I began to walk away.

"Sian?" She called. I turned quickly to see what she wanted. Her back was to me and she was leaning forward to drop her milky froth into the sink. "Your dad called." I knew there had to be some reason why she hadn't been gone or frolicking around the house listening to Jewel and doing her make-up.

"Oh? Is he still in Mexico with- um,"

"Darcie? No, they broke up, I think because he was acting a bit hateful towards me and he only does that when he's single." She laughed morbidly and then handed me the phone. "He wants you to call him. I think he wants you to go back to Texas with him."

"He knows you'd never let me do that. I wouldn't leave you."

I didn't like the non chalant look that she wore so well. Her relaxed countenance bothered me, especially seeing as she had just told me that I might be sent back to my father.

"It might have been my idea." She said softly, as she did looking down at her Manolo clad feet.

"Wh-why would you do that?" I asked incredulously, stumbling backwards a bit. I could hardly believe that I was hearing her right.

"Sian, you've been so to yourself lately." She said. "I mean, I get that you're not used to here, but come on, you've completely cut yourself off from the world."

I wanted to cuss at her. She obviously had no idea what she was talking about.

"You're never here! How would you know? You're always out at clubs with your friends. I hardly ever see you in the house. For your information, I have friends too." Two of them. "I've been out with them." Sneaking out. "Next time, before you hand me off to Dad, try talking to me."

I felt bad that I had talked to her as harshly as I did immediately after I had. She looked ashamed and worn out, like we had been arguing for hours. I knew Tawni never could handle any type of confrontation.

"Here, just call your Dad." She grabbed my hands and put them phone in them. I heard a car honk outside and she started for the door.

"I'm gone." She said, as if I wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't announced it.

I didn't understand what she was talking about. I decided to think she just wanted an excuse to send me back. She'd seen Ro and I before. The only time of day she was ever home was sometimes in the afternoon when I would come home from school and Ro would be sitting in her empty driveway smoking a cigarette. I know Tawni had seen her and I walking up the stairs chatting incesantly. So, why had she said what she had said?

I felt like I hadn't seen Ro in months, when it had only been a few days.

She touched my face and made dimples in my cheeks with her index fingers. I giggled as she tried to contort it into a fishy face.

"How many people have you actually loved?" I asked her as she settled down next to me on her hip, catching the back of my head in her palm as I lay back.

"Um...let's see...there was...and then...just one." Ro enjoyed toying with my question. I had known her long enough to realize that I would never get a straight response. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun atop her head and she played with it with her free hand, pulling a bit of her bangs from the bun and feathering them out over her forehead.

"Who was that?"

"Luxie, that's a dumb question." She said.

I suppose it was because it was written all over her wonderful expression who that referred person was. Nevertheless, I pushed my inquiry,

"Dumb?"

She smothered my incesant catechisms with a kiss. This one soft, almost transparent. I kissed her back, combing her hair between my fingers, caressing the back of her neck as she bit me tenderly and slipped her tounge into my mouth. I could feel the intensity swelling. Our breaths were beginning to synchronize. I felt a soft sound release from her and she straddled me, pushing my wrists down into the mattress and pinning me helplessly beneath her. I gave in without a fight and surrendered in to her passionate and random placement of kisses that trailed from my mouth, past my chin between my breasts and down to my belly button. There she hesitated and flickered her hypnotizing eyes up at me. Her bottom lip popped up from my skin.

"Further?" She asked.

I breathed in, looked up at the ceiling. I had never done this before, but strangely it felt familiar. I wasn't afraid. I looked down at her. Now she was not so dangerous looking or ravenous. She looked frighteningly young...and innocent.  I brushed her bangs out of her eyes and she smiled.

I closed my eyes.

 

Why did she never call me Sian?

I awoke naked and dizzy from a dream and caught Ro kneeling next to me and sliding her shorts back on. She was hooking her bra by the time she saw that I was awake and staring at her.

"Luxie, go back to sleep." She said in that raspy voice that always sent little tingles down my spine. I continued to stare at her as she crawled to me, placing her fingers at my temples and manually drawing my eyelids closed with her thumbs. I kept them that way. I liked the sound of her breath while nothing but darkness surrounded me. I liked the feeling of being in a universe where there was only her and her wonderful rhythm of breathing and speech.

"Don't leave." I said.

"What made you think I was leaving, Luxie?"

I nodded sleeplily and pulled her to me. I pulled her into my fantastically trippy dreams. We put our chests together so that our hearts took the same rhythm. And in the morning she was gone. I'd gotten a cinnamon flavored cigarette from the Arab man behind the counter at 7/11. I'd never bought a pack in my life, and even now, I wasn't smoking it. I was merely rolling one ack and forth between my thumb and index finger, increasing the force as I continued. Finally it thinned and tore and I was left with tobacco and hazardous chemicals crumbling out onto my palm. I brought the hand to my nose and breathed in, sucking a few seeds into my nostrils. The crumbles fell and splattered all over my lap.

I smelled of Ro.

"What did I do?" I whimpered to myself, taking two chunks of my hair into fists and bringing my head down to my knees. "Are you smoking?" Tawni's strained whine came from behind me. She herself was balancing a lit marlboro light between her ring fingers. The other hand gripped the cordless phone. I noticed it was on mute.

I hadn't seen her all day and now I knew why: she looked horrible. She was in a soiled, pink robe that she'd gotten at Dillard's when I was about eight. Her hair was crumpled and messily strewn into one big knot that looked like it could be a ponytail.

"Is that Dad on the phone?" I guessed. The horrified look on her slipped away and she glanced down at the phone.

"Oops, almost forgot he was on hold." She snickered bitterly and handed it to me. I took it and she immediately began to go away. I rolled my eyes at her back as she muttered, "Smoking?" to herself.

I took the phone off of mute and pressed my ear against the reciever. I could hear him breathing heavily. He was nervous. I picked up the pack of cigarettes and tossed them into the bushes.

"Hello?" I said, to no one in particular and waited for him to answer.

"Hey-hey, Ladybug!" He said excitedly. The nickame surprised me. Not because I hadn't thought he would use it, but because I hadn't expected to feel so good when he did. So comfortable. I had forgotten my father in the time that we'd been in that place-that black hole of memories- where everything got distorted and I couldn't remember what it had felt like to be called Ladybug.

"Dad?" I said it like a question, and didn't know why I had.

"Look, honey. I'm sorry I haven't called, I just was stupid and thought you and Mom needed some time alone."

"It's okay, I guess. We kind of did."

"No, you didn't. And that was my fault. I've been such a selfish s.o.b. honey and I'm so sorry." He sounded like he was about to cry.

"Dad, don't worry about it. Nothing's wrong."

"Listen to me, baby, you need to come back home."

"I can't, Dad. You know Mom needs me."

"No, I'm telling you what's best. I've never seen your mother so flustered over anything. She told me- some things."

"Dad, about that, I don't know what Mom is talking about. She thinks I don't have any friends and I do, I really do.."

"I'm sure you do, honey,"

He was agreeing with me, but in that way that psychiatrists do when they want to calm you. The worst thing was that it was making me even more frantic in my attempts to convince him.

"No, really! I do!"

"Ladybug, I'm not going to argue with you, okay? I believe you that you have friends, it's your mother who's going to need convincing. She thinks- no we both think that texas would be the best place for you now. I just want you to be safe and happy. That's all I want."

I hung up on him.

It was the only thing I could think of to do when consumed with such anger building in me against my mother and all the lies she had poisoned my father with. And she hated him.

All I could see was red. My heartbeat pounded in my ear. And then Ro's face.

She smiled and glanced at the bush beside me. She reached behind it and pulled out the pack of black cigs, tapping it against her wrist. Without a word, she grabbed my hand and pulled me into her arms.

 

 

 

Okay, so after this scene, I've decided that I want Sian to speak with her father, who tells her that her mother would be better off if she just left and stayed with him. He asks her why she has no friends. Hints towards her having speaking to herself in her room all alone. Anyways, she yells at him tells him she has friends that are worth staying for. Then, she sees Kreigh and he's not happy. He thinks she leading him on and wants nothing else to do with her. Then she goes home all sad because she realizes that she wants him and her mother intercepts her and starts to stutter about not wanting to bring it up before but asks her why she talks to herself all the time in her room. Why is she always sneaking out. Is it drugs. She hears this in an angry flurry and has no time to think about it. Somehow, someway she breaks up with Ro because she doesn’t want to ruin everything over one girl or whatever else I can think of. Ro says something important to the story: "I just got you back, Lux. Why are you leaving me again?" Then, she goes back to Kreigh and makes out with him, tells him that  hes the one she loves and realizes that the love she has for Ro Is only a friendship type that has been taken too far. That is when Ro trips out and she sees the exact same image that she saw when she first moved in of Ro standing in the window with a blade. She runs next door to save her and finds Ro in a bathtub filled with blood, dying. She calls for Kreigh to help, shes hysterical, but Kreigh and his parents are shaking her. They say, what are you talking about? Rowan has been dead for over four years. In a fury she storms into Ro's room and sees pictures of the mysterious girl all over the bedroom. A frame of her sits on the dresser like a shrine with candles and the whole bit. It reads: Lux. She reads the letter from Lux saying that Ro was bad news and she was a life ruiner and could not hang out with her anymore. "I don't want to feel your lips on me anymore." Of course, Sian decides to skip town and go live with her father…one scene/last scene where she settles into her old room at the ranch. It's night time and she feels a ghostly prescence. Ro is at the doorway with a mischevious smile on her face. There is a blade between her fingers. She says, "Hey, bitch. I'm back."

Another displaced idea: okay, the name that Ro gives Sian( Lux) is the name of her old best friend who died in a car accident right before she killed herself.

 

 

 

               

 

 

Okay, here’s my brilliant idea: at the end of the book, Sian aka Lux sees Ro in the window as she did that first night(shivering, wet, and holding the blade of a razor against her wrist) She breaks into the house next door to find Ro in the bathtub, with streams of blood coming from her, limp in the crimson water. Before Ro dies, she takes Sian by the hand and looks past her but at her at the same time. She’s saying, “remember when we kissed for the first time, Lux? You were so scared. You thought God would come and strike you down dead. You thought you were gay. But I told you that we’re not lesbians, we are just in love with each other. If you were a man, I would still love you, Lux. Luxie, why did you leave me then? Why did you laugh at me with those fucking high school babies and tell my mother I’m crazy. I’m a lesbian. I forgive you, I know you love me. I know you just can’t handle loving me like I can loving you. It’s too strong for you, I know. That’s why I’m doing this, Luxie. Just, just please, just kiss me. I love you…so…much. I’ll never let you go, never. Luxie, don’t leave me!” She’s dead. She’s screaming, when Kreigh comes into the room and tells her to calm down. In the excited moment she’s pointing to the body and screaming, “She’s dead! She’s dead!” Kreigh looks down at the bathtub and says who’s dead. She’s saying, “your sister! Don’t you see?” And Kreigh says, “Sian, Rowan has been dead for three years.” That’s when Sian notices that there are no pictures of Ro anywhere in the home. Flashback * Back at a party, Ro forced her to go to, she left her to fin for herself and Sian could not find her and no one had a clue where she’d went. She ends up having sex with Kreigh and Ro is angry at her. She is sitting in her room when she comes back, smoking another black cigarette and she yells at her for “being a delicious little slut” Anyways it turns out that Ro has been dead for some time. The story ends with Sian ending the story with She was beautiful and ruined. So damn filthily attractive. So dangerous.

Short for Rowan wouldn’t that just be delicious?

 [the girl’s name should b Ro] sexy right??

 

I clawed at the crimson water, digging towards her body under the gore. I tried not to look at her blank, expressionless face; those eyes that were wide and dim, her lips which were curled into a gruesome half smile. My hands found her thin body, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her out of the water and close to me. A sick feeling was filling my stomach as I felt her cold, ragdoll arms flop against my back. Her heavy head fell on my shoulder with her lips against my neck as if she were kissing me. I was suddenly screaming.

The bathroom door burst open and I heard a woman gasp.

“Oh my god.” A voice breathed. It sounded like Kreigh.

“Help. H-help me.” I muttered to them, squeezing Ro’s body closer to me. “Help. Get an ambulance. They can save her.”

“Call 911!” The woman shouts, presumably to Kreigh.

“Now, please. I think she’s dead!” I sob. “She’s dead because of me.”

“Call down.” Kreigh’s face comes into view. He’s rubbing my arms. “You’ll be okay. You haven’t lost that much blood.” He says. I look up at him dumbfoundedly.

“B-but she’s dead.” I say to him. Snot and tears collect on my lips and it becomes unbearable to speak.

“Who’s dead?” He asks weirdly. It’s like it’s a game to him.

“Your sister! Ro is dead. Can’t you see her! She’s right infront of your eyes!”

 

 



Aint no sunshine

 

“I can’t write anymore.”

She says this simply, flicking the ashes off her cigarette into a Pepsi can. Her fingers stroke a pile of white papers still hot from the insides of a printer. Her eyes- a magnificent blue the same shade of the Mediterranean- flicker up at me and for a moment I am paralyzed. I am about to say something, but choke on the unspoken words. She lifts her brow questioningly and then brushes the incident off, forgetting about it in a matter of seconds. Nothing in life seems important when you are beautiful.

Our eyes meet. Mines are searching for the emotion in hers. I’ve never gotten it before, and I don’t know why I

seem to expect it now. This is the part where she scoots off the desk and saunters to me, cocking her head to one side and producing a white smile. She wraps her hands around my shoulders and leans down against steep heels.

She turns and my hand immediately jerks into my pocket. She moves close to me. So close that I can feel the tips of her nipples brushing against my shirt and breathe in the expensive perfumes she always wears. “Goodbye.” She says with a smile.

                “B-bye.” I stutter, my tongue failing at giving a cooler response.

She sways when she walks. Each hip is like an oar, propelling her forward. Her dark, chocolate locks fall to the curve between her back and round ass and I inhale, taking the last sips of her scent before she exits and slams the attic door.

 

 

 

{ this should b my next story about a boy who is completely infatuated with his next door neighbor. He wants to fuck but ends up fucking her sister that comes into town to visit. The less hot, nicer sister. Suddenly the neighbor wants him to use as revenge in her sick sibling rivalry—yaay for him right?} lol in this scene he is helping her write a paper and she is tantalizing, teasing him with her rampant sexuality. How fun.

 

Musik.

 grips my breath

carries away my soul

takes unrelentlessly

and strangely

I am whole

This rhythm

That presses my eye lids

Rotates my hips

Curls my toes

Swallows the words

That I can’t forget

Twists the tongue

Fingers stroke violently,

Alive as they are numb

This sound

It grips the breath

Carries away the soul

It has never been young

Will never grow old

 

 

 

 

 “You’re not still afraid of the dark are you?” Matthew asks, sliding next to his little cousin the twin sized canopy bed. Meagan gives a nervous smile and pulls the covers up to her chin and shakes her head. She’s seven, and too old to be scared of silly things, but there has always been something about nighttime that just unnerves her. Anything as simple as a dark room made her stomach tighten and her breath catch. She wanted to tell Matt to turn on the night light in the corner, but she wanted to impress him with how mature she could be. “I’m glad you’re not. Most of the kids I babysit your age get to screaming when I turn the closet light off!” Meagan laughed shortly, she’d done that once. “Well, night, cousin. When you wake up your Mom and Dad will be home.” Matt lifted himself up from the bed and made his way across Meagan’s huge, empty room. Boxes of her playthings were piled in the corners waiting to be unpacked. It’d been a week in the new house and she had not been able to bear setting up her new room. It would mean the old one- the one that she’d known for all of her life- would be officially gone. Matthew got past the door and stuck his head back in. “On second thought, I’ll leave the hallway light on.” He gave her a half smile and winked. He left the door cracked so a bit of light from the hallway streamed in. Relaxed, little Meagan fell asleep.

Her dream was filled with grays and reds and maniacal laughter. Meagan was walking through an empty space, eyes dilating to see through the intense darkness surrounding her. The laughter grew and echoed. She spun in a million directions, not knowing where to go, or how to go. Her breath began to quicken, head began to spin until she fell to her knees and threw her hands over her eyes.  Suddenly she felt cold hands grip her shoulders. Sharp nails bit into her skin, drawing blood.

“Gotcha!”

Meagan flung herself out of the nightmarish dream, sitting up. She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t. It was if something was crushing her lungs. Immediately, she looked towards the half open door at the end of her bedroom. She was comforted by the bright light piercing through it that represented life and safety. She began to peel the covers off of her to run towards it, but was stopped by the sound of a faint giggle coming from the hallway. It sounded as if tiny feet were slapping against the wood floors. She gasped when she saw the shadow of footprints that stretched out under the door. The giggling stopped, but she could hear whoever it was breathing almost as hard as she. But it was shallow and sickly. Meagan sunk back into bed and pulled the covers over her head, pressing her eyes shut, and counting down from one hundred in a hushed, sobbing whisper.

“Sweet pie?” Meagan’s mother came into her room to find her daughter stuffed under the large blankets she always put on the bed. She knew something was wrong because the covers were shivering and the room was extremely hot. Her husband came in the room behind her, fanning himself and letting out a, “Whew, its hot!”

“Meagan?” She called again, pulling down the covers to find her little girl with wet, red eyes, wet hair, and drenched pajamas. “Oh my god.” She said, pulling her up and into her arms. “Baby, wake up please!” To her husband, “Josh, I knew we shouldn’t have let Matt babysit. He’s probably told her a scary story or something.”

“Mom!” Meagan had woken up and tightened her arms around her mother’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re back. Never leave again. Promise?”

 

“It was probably just Matt trying to scare you.” Meagan’s mother assured her at breakfast. Meagan nodded, she’d never thought of that before. The dream had just gotten to her. It had been the same laughter. Her mother didn’t seem to find that strange. “You’re stressed because of the move. That reminds me, you have to unpack your room today.”

“That’s not my room.” Meagan said seriously, putting her cereal spoon back in the bowl.

“Sweetie pie, I know you’ve got to get used to this new house, but cleaning and putting your room together is just the first big step. You’ll see. You’ll like it here. There are lots of kids to play with on this block. It will be like old times! No, better!”

Meagan smiled at her mother’s enthusiasm.

“Well…..okay.”

There weren’t lots of children on the block. At least, not outside. The neighborhood was a little quieter than what she was used to. Meagan stood on her front steps, spinning a jump rope around in the air. She was about to go back in the house, when the neighbor’s screen door slapped shut and a tall, skinny girl, a little older than her came out. She grew excited and waved when the girl looked her way. To her surprise, the girl didn’t smile but marched towards her like she was on a mission. When she had gotten to the steps, she outstretched her hand for Meagan to shake and announced,

“My name is Gia.” Meagan was about to spit out her name but the girl continued. “I saw you and your parents move in and me and my family couldn’t believe somebody actually bought that house.” Meagan couldn’t believe her parents had bought it either, but she wanted to know why Gia felt the same way.

“Why not?” She asked suspiciously.

“You don’t know what happened in that house?” When the girl realized that Meagan didn’t she continued, “It was like all over the news here. This kid, Justin disappeared in that house. I mean, they thought he ran away but there were no windows open, no nothing. His parents were going crazy looking for him, because you know theres supposed to be some kind of secret passageway in the house and all that. The police found out that’s a load of crap. But when they searched the house thoroughly, guess what they found? Justin’s body under the floorboards.”

Meagan shivered. She didn’t know why the girl was telling her all of this, or why her parent’s hadn’t known.

“You’re lying.” She decided.

“You should ask your parents. My mom said they got that house really cheap because of what happened.”

Meagan folded her arms and frowned at the girl, “That’s not funny.”

“I swear it!”

She suddenly didn’t feel like playing outside anymore.

“Mom,” Meagan called. She had a bone to pick with her mother. She had to ask if it was true. Had there really been a little boy named Justin found under the wood floor?

“Good news,” Her mom sing songed into the foyer. She didn’t pause at Meagan’s questioning face. “Now I know Matthew scared you the other day, but since you’ve been kind of lonely around here, I invited all of your cousins and Matt to come over and have a little sleep over.”

This was news that Meagan liked. The story seemed unimportant now, and besides, she reasoned, that girl was probably lying to get attention.

“We want to play hide and seek!” Jamie, the youngest cousin exclaimed. It was eight o’clock and almost bed time. Matt had been playing babysitter to his six younger cousins while the adults sat around the grill in the backyard. Meagan had been dreading this the entire time. Hide and seek always meant storing herself away in a lowly lit spot so as not to be found. The entire day had been fun and she couldn’t say she hadn’t been expecting this. It was her cousin’s traditional sleep over game.

The others crowded around awaiting Matt’s agreement. One nod from him and the game was on, sending the group of children bursting apart like a firework, running to the best hiding spot possible. Matt smiled at Meagan before he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, starting the count,

“One hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight…”

Meagan took off, searching for a place. Every cousin had occupied the good corners. A few of them were hidden behind the window curtains. Another was behind the couch. Meagan rolled her eyes, running up the stairs and to her room. She knew the perfect place…

In her room, she winced as she flicked off the lights and climbed into the closet. No one would suspect her there because they all knew of her fear of the dark. Giggling nervously, she waited for the count to be over. Matt finally finished and she could hear him running through the house and finding each cousin one by one with a loud, “Found you! Now where could my other cousins be?” Meagan shook with excitement and anticipation. Her breathing was hard and loud. She tried to control it, slowing it down to where it should have been almost silent. Heart falling into her stomach, she realized that it hadn’t been her breath. Now she felt the warm air flowing against her neck she’d been too nervous to sense. Slowly, she turned around. Too afraid to look up, she stared down at little, dirty, gray feet. The giggling began like in the dream. It echoed all around her. Jaw shaking, Meagan looked up and saw the sickly gray face of a little girl. Matted hair fell around her shoulders, her eyes were wide and rimmed with red. She had been breathing through an evil grin that stretched across her wrinkled, bloodless skin. The cold hands gripped Meagan’s shoulders and she felt nails slice into her skin.

“Gotcha!”

 

Ice cubes

 

It’s ninety degrees

Hot as fuck

We’re laying apart

No want for body heat

But the tips of your fingers still touch me,

Dragging across the seam and fold of my belly

Their tender approach tell me that I am beautiful

Without your hushed words

God it’s hotter than hell, I say

You tell me to wait,

Lift up from the bed, open the door and skate

Over the linoleum floor with sweaty feet

I hear the frig open and giggle lightly

When you return your smile is sweet

Corner of lips spread up into your cheeks

A chunk of crystal clear ice melts between them

Oh baby, jump back into bed

You do

Pinning me down

The hotness doesn’t matter now

You’re dripping frozen H2O on my neck

Kissing my skin with it, cold ‘gainst hot

I think I hear a sizzle, I say

Funny haha

If you think this is good….

Your words trail off as does the ice

And your tongue

To a nicer, much warmer place, I will not name

My eyes that were closed, swing open

Lip that hung free now gnashes down by the weight

Of locking teeth

my toes curl like in the movies,

you come up for air, kiss my navel and resume

only stopping when the. Ice. Melts.

You ascend to my level, lock me in an embrace

Funny what one piece of ice can accomplish

Burning up, baking in the heat of the day

We are still intertwined,

Its still hot as fuck

 

Just something I needed to get off my mind…

 

Well, Josh apparently texted my lost phone today, which Perry saw. Intercepting inappropriate text messages has always been the man’s specialty when it comes down to our relationship. This time, thankfully, it wasn’t my fault. It was something a little more surprising. After all of the bitching about how Perry is controlling me by not wanting us to talk, Josh tells me “you said you’d fix me and you didn’t so you’re responsible for whatever happens to me,” At least this is all that Perry tells me of it, 17 hours away, probably walking from the bookstore. He reads it with humor all over his tone and laughs giddily when he’s done. It’s sad, but I laugh too, not wanting it to seem like I care so I won’t put any doubt in Perry’s mind. After all, I am a lot closer to Josh now than I am him. A part of me wants so badly to call Josh and tell him to stop acting so desperate. I’ve heard from friends how annoying he’s getting now. He’s playing that slut card a little too hard and hitting on too many candidates for the HIV virus. It’s starting to work people’s nerves and they’re starting to catch on to his “pity” game that he plays on pretty girls to get them to fuck him. He should have known his friends would start to catch on sooner or later. Anyways, it’s true. In an attempt to make him feel better one day on the infamous Facebook, I did tell him that I was trying to fix what I’d broken. But maybe I should have explained that I already fixed it by saying a simple and authentic sorry. That’s all I broke. Hell, we’re young and had only gone out with each other for approximately 3 months. If we don’t belong together, that’s that! He should have gotten over it by now; at least half way anyways. I made it easy for him for golly sake, I cheated on him! That would be an automatic deal breaker for me, but now he’s just being desperate. Threatening me for being responsible for his mistakes and possibly hinting at suicide is not okay! Laughing at me when I ask you did you lie about not having an STD is not okay! But you know, I’ll take responsibility for even letting him into my love life by telling him when things went wrong with Perry. I was trying to get back at Perry mostly, but those times are long over, and I have stopped trying to befriend someone who just won’t take friends for an answer. I want to post something on facebook to let him know to stop acting like this! He can be such a cool guy. He has a gift at befriending people quickly. I’ve seen the most un-cool, mean, snotty, and/or unsatisfied with themselves people totally change face in his presence. I’ve seen him make a true friend in a day! He has extraordinary kindness to share with the world but he’s too busy blaming others for his misfortune, and wallowing in his past bad experiences to capitalize on it. I can’t preach because I know that I have talents that I don’t take advantage of right now, but I still recognize them. I’m not blaming anyone but myself for the way that I am. We’re actually very similar, but my mother always taught me to keep my dignity and to be responsible for me! If Perry broke up with me today, as much as I love him, I’d have to get over it. I’d have to suck it up and go back to school. Not necessarily with a smile on my face, but knowing that it’s ultimately going to be okay. This is a lot, but at least I got it off my mind. Now all that’s on it is Perry and how quickly I can make 50 days pass by. I still need a job, glasses, and i.d.!

 

I was just thinking the other day….

You don’t ever seem to miss love, until you see it right in front of you. Seeing the real thing, especially if you don’t have it, can snatch the breath out of you; leave you defenseless against the occasional hard bump of a stranger walking through the confusion of a downtown street. Even this bump, which would usually be little more than a mild dent in the contour of your day, becomes a breaking point; an event that contributes to your Facebook status and your pessimistic conversation with bored co-workers and your understanding mother, both of whom just want to tell you to shut up. They will not understand why this small, harsh meeting of shoulders is so important to you because you will not tell them about the glimpse of that unobtainable affection you discovered on an obscure bench at Lincoln Park, and how badly you wished it were you.

 

I am addicted to love. I’ve known this ever since my unfortunate run-in with an overweight ex from high school. I was surprised to learn he was the same weight he had been since the 11th grade and wondered why I had stooped as low to date someone who was literally three times my size. And not in the fit, muscular, beautiful way, but the sloppy, hanging, little dick kind of way. It would be better if I were addicted to sex. Perhaps then I would get fucked outside of a monogamous relationship.

 

Silly suburb bred kids

Cut the shit

Joke and spit

Getting high on State street

 Their voices blend in

To the monotony of the consistency

Of the loud city

Chicago lives under their pacing feet

It breathes in their herbal smoke

And sucks their raucous laughter into

The contour of its complex throat

They pass the tightly rolled blunt

Sip its madness into their lungs

And cough like choking infants

Damn aint the Chi town fun

We trip up stairs and fall down escalators

We smoke until the roach is gone

Fuck saving that shit for later

Those suburban children feel like they are living for the first time

The pulse, the rhythm of the city reminds

That there is so much time

So much scrumptious life left to devour

Short, long, precious, irreplaceable hours

The windy city blows us to our separate destinations

Of mind

Or maybe we’ve hallucinated it all….

Under the lights of the buildings masquerading as stars

We feel so small.

And tomorrow, damn it,

We return to the suburbs

And its all lost.

 

 

Another random thought in my ocean of a mind…I compare the two because my brain and collection of knowledge is both vast and every changing its course.

I went to see my great grandmother today. The thing is: I thought she was dead. My grandmother and grand-dad as he likes me to call him drove me about five blocks down from their south side home to check on her and see if she was alright. We’ve been trying to contact her for about two years now- since my high school graduation. Well, surprise surprise she’s still up and kicking. Well not really kicking since her legs are short and bent and she has a horrible abcess growing on her right arm. She tells me about a million times that she’s happy that I came to see her. She asks me a million more how long I’m staying in Chicago. I tell her just until the end of July twice, but she continued to ask the entire time. Gail was the same as she’d ever been. She’s a strong, independent lady with the mouth of an electoral candidate as well as the wealth of knowledge. She’d be my role model if she were a bit nicer spirited. During the three hour visit I covered some questions that I’d been wanting to ask for a long time. I asked whether my father was doing good in prison and where he was. Also, I asked where she had come from. The story took all of about ten minutes, and even though she repeated herself quite a few times and spoke in a high pitched motherly tone, I was enthralled with her every word. It seems that I have a little bit of the South in me, I suppose as does every African-American descendant of slaves. My great-great grandmother(it’s a shame I don’t even know her name) was born in Mississippi. At a young age, she was married off to a mulatto man and became pregnant with Marguerita. Well, the man- I guess- grew tired of his bride and brought another young woman into their home and slept with her in their marriage bed. Well, my great great grandmother wasn’t having it, and left while her husband fucked his mistress for Chicago. Marguerita was born on the train. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one which I ride back and forth on holidays from school to home. I didn’t ask, not wanting to side track her. There is so much else that I want to ask her before she dies. I want to ask her how my father was when he was young. I want to ask her if she grew up rich or poor. I want to know more about her rich, light skinned husband who flew her all over the world in the pursuit of her ultimate happiness. I want enough of her memories to fill a book.

Overall, I am glad I went to see her. The next time won’t be so far between. Surprisingly, I care about her. That fast!! She’s my family; my blood. And you know what they say…that’s much thicker than punk ass water.

 

 

I tried to throw up today after eating two hamburgers. I did it because I’m fat. I feel like a failure, though. My damn gag reflex decided to disappear today! I give Perry head and throw up all the time, but today a tooth brush wasn’t working. I think I need that stuff that you buy at Wal-Green’s that makes you throw up. Epecac is what I think its called but I’m not completely sure. I’m not a seasoned bulimic or anything, though at this moment I wish I were. I’m huge and it’s not water weight. Can you believe that I went from weighing 120 to weighing 158 in the span of about six months?! I’ve got stretch marks on my thighs, ass, breasts, and hips. I mean come on REALLY?!! I can’t figure why this had to happen to me. I was so hot but not yet in my prime. I was waiting for my “Heidi” years. I’m not getting used to the fact that they may never happen. I’m trying to lose at least 30 lbs but I don’t know where to start. I mean, that’s the weight of my little sister. I have to lose a whole person! Anyways, I’ve decided to write about it since I’m going to try out bulimia and anorexia for quick, drastic results. I hate my body and so I’m going to do something about it regardless if it is unhealthy. Don’t care. All I care about is loosing 30 lbs before I have to see Perry again. I really want to be skinny and cute for him. I have to remind myself that my life will never be the same if I don’t do this. I am doing this!! It works if you work it. Tomorrow I’m walking to the corner store and get me some Epecac. Here goes… (5/20/09)

 

The images slip in and out, but I catch them for short seconds and keep them in my heart. My senses have somehow enhanced and I can feel my pulse thumping through my neck and wrist. She brushes at her hair nervously, glancing back and forth from the screen to my face, wondering what I might do.

                We can’t go anywhere. We are trapped in the attic at our mother’s house and staring at the old tv screen as it plays back the tape that ended my marriage. My sister is its star. Her large, caramel brown ass is positioned in front of the camera as my ex-husband taps it playfully with two fingers and then spreads the cheeks apart with one smooth motion. It is as if he’s kneading dough. I almost vomit. She has stopped playing with her hair and is standing bowlegged with her arms crossed across her small chest and bottom lip caught under her two front teeth.

                “I should have whooped your ass.” I said in almost a whisper, collapsing on the trunk that the video had been pulled from. I had taken it out, thinking I’d find some old home movies of the family. What I got instead was my sister and my husband’s sex affair on VHS.

                “That was ten years ago.” She sighs.

                “Theres no statuate of limitations when it comes to how long I’m going to hate you, Briana. Why do you have to have everything? To this fucking day- you haven’t changed.” Iwas right. She hadn’t.

She’d just moved back into our mother’s house because the boyfriend she was cheating on and shacking up with got tired of her activities and threw her out. Maybe an ass-whipping ten years ago when she maliciously stole my husband would have taught her the lesson she was meant to learn.

 

 

 

Okay so it’s eleven and I don’t know if it’s because it is a little late or what but I can’t stop thinking about Darius. Oh my god it is weird because he’s not anything that I’m usually attracted to. I mean he’s sort of short and a little serious for my taste but for some reason my heart gets to pumping fast, my pussy acquires a pulse and sends streams of cum down my thighs when he’s near me. So maybe this is just lust. Yes, I won’t lie to myself—it’s lust. I know that if I do anything with him I’ll stop feeling the way I do right now and be annoyed halfway through my first orgasm. I think he has one of those small, soft kind of dicks too. Lol  I’m being bad. I hope that I see him again. This is like I’m reverting to high school crush or something.  I hope I stop feeling this way soon or I’m probably going to do or try to do something I’ll regret. Let me stop, I actually LOVE Perry too much to do that. Even though, in my mind I’m still sure he’s cheating on me with that bitch. Yeah, I get to call her a bitch in my diary because that’s how I feel. I usually don’t like to blame the chick but I feel like this hoe is somebody that I definitely know. I think Perry still hangs out with her and everything. You know though, I’m going to try to stop thinking about it because I’ll probably never find out because Perry won’t ever tell me. Not even if we grow old and die together lol

 

 

Yes so first of all, I did know the girl a little bit. Her name is Ebony and yes she is ugly. Whatever, kudos to Perry for finally getting some other pussy but anyways, I find myself not caring. I flirt with so many guys I can’t really even keep up with names. Mostly on facebook, always out of reach because I don’t want to actually fuck anybody or start any kind of relations. The only one I kind of wish I could do is Ronnie. And I could do him-if I wanted to. But he is picky and remembers the old, skinny Khadija with little, perky breasts, and long, shapely but thin legs. He remembers the girl that straddled him on my living room couch and gave him hickies all over his beautiful neck and chest, and leaned her head back, moaning lightly as he sucked on her nipples. That’s the perfect bodied, free spirited girl he used to know. But I’m not that girl any longer. I am the D-cup, halfway down her stomach tittied, 150 lb, used to be preggo girl with baggage and self esteem that is getting higher everyday but is more of that grown woman, hard faced self esteem and not that free willed, always laughing and flirting, showing off my cute little body self esteem that he once knew. Ah, I have changed. I still love Perry but it feels as if we’re at the beginning of our relationship all over again. Oh, while Im thinking about it; I’m still drooling over this delicious nude pic this guy named Tcomp sent me. Omg if I was comfortable with my new body I’d fuck the shit out of him, suck the hell out of his long, caramel complexioned dick and not give a second thought to Perry or Tcomp’s girl, Robin. Oh the hell well. I’m starting to realize that relationships are dead. I’m not hurt either, I’m just done with them. And also, yesterday I did the boldest thing and told Darius in so many words that I couldn’t get him out of my head and that I am mad attracted to him. He admitted the same thing and wanted to hang out on Sunday, but didn’t even bother to call today. See, I called him later to see if he had tried to reach me on my battery dead cell. He said no and that he was cleaning and would call me back in 45 mins. Oh, nigger please. That guy did not call me back at all. So, I’m pretty much over that. All I wanted to do was get my pussy licked and fucked anyway. I give up my search and for now I’ll just go with my fingers. Well, it was good seeing the family today. I had all my little cousins in my arms. I love them. They’re so soft and cute and sweet. Just wait till they get my age and they’ll be wild and slutty and numbed. Numbed to love I mean. I am sorry that so many women especially black women are like that now. Well, men mess it all up for themselves. I don’t think I will ever be completely faithful ever again. So fuck if I care if Perry is still messing with his hair dresser. She can’t braid anyway. Lol I’m bad. I need to go to sleep, but I’ve got to admit I’m kind of mad that Darius is so nonchalant about going out and me period. Well, sorry I told him how I felt, I should have let him lust and want and imagine for a little bit longer. Oh well, life is life. What can you do?

 

 

Michael Jackson died today. No one knows how hard the impact of his death hit me. It was like getting plowed by a sixteen wheeler when I heard. I was in the grocery store with my mother and younger siblings, reprimanding my sister for climbing on and touching everything in sight when the familiar jingle of my broke down straight from year 2000 cell. I got a text message from Perry: Farrah Faucette died today. Its said. My mouth opened. Michael Jackson had a heart attack was the next text I got. I almost dropped the damn phone. I’ll stop with all this poetic bullshit. I’m sad. God knows I’m sad and angry, but most of all I feel a strong convulsion of fear. It penetrates me deeper and harder than anything. Yes, I am angry that Michael had such a hard life and had to struggle with so many hard mental incapacities. I’m sorry that everyone downplayed the impact that his music had on the world and chose to focus on his downfalls. I’m sorry he was going through the humiliation of being poor. I’m sorry that even in his death people talk about him molesting children instead of respecting that he is gone. But I am so fearful because it could have been anyone around me. I’m growing up. I’m getting older. I thought I’d never get to 18 fast enough. I never dreamed I’d be going into my sophomore year of college. I couldn’t even imagine getting pregnant or fat. And both things I’ve done. I still can’t imagine that I have to see the ones I love die one by one, or that I might die before them all. Michael Jackson was moderately young. No younger than my grandmothers and aunts. No younger than any of the friends of the family or my friend’s parents that I’ve grown to love along the way. If he died- and he’s rich- what can happen to them? The hardest thing is that I have to live with the fact that WE ALL WILL DIE SOMEDAY, and I don’t even have a schedule to tell me when. How long I have to make my life the best that it can possibly be: to conquer my fears : to (gasp) actually accomplish something: to show my mother how much I love her. I’m pondering all these things sitting on this got damn 3 hr. train ride. I’m coming from my mother’s in South Bend. Who knows: this could be the last time I will see her alive. This could be the last time I could see Bryce or Jeremy or Jaylon or Grandmother Marguerita or Rochelle or Auntie Sharon or Arielle or Saretta or Perry. I love them all. Neal dying was a wake-up call to everyone else. For some reason Michael Jackson was mine. I think I liked being asleep better.

 

 

On the tip of the Miami coast, I stand with a bottle of Jim in my hand, a shot glass tied with string around my neck, and bedazzled 2009 glasses balancing on the tip of my nose.

                “It’s a new year baby,” Orlando comes behind me, tying his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. His warm, mojito tainted breath blows in the crease of my ear and a sharp tingle shoots up my spine. His Spanish accent slips and curls and I close my eyes and try to catch the hushed syllables. “You want to know my resolution?”

                “Uh-oh, I’m fucked,” I giggle. My knees weaken and I almost fall but he grasps me tightly and laughs at my drunken antics.

                “The first will be to stop Yelle from drinking.” I suck my teeth at him, loving the way he pronounces my nickname; almost like saying the word “yellow”.

                “and to stop Danyella from maxing out the credit cards.” I add.

                “Stop it, bebe`,” He sighs, “You are wonderful and I would never change anything about you. My resolution is for me to change. I want to stop working so much; focusing so much energy on the business and not you. I want to take my time on loving my wife.”

               

Long story short: Orlando-sexy Orlando- dies and Danyelle aka Yelle is left alone.

 

 

So, Perry says he wants a three-some. He says, ‘maybe with Jamie’. She’s stick thin with no tits, no ass, and really pale but extremely perky, and of course white. These are all deadly things for me, since Perry is black and black guys seem to always have this weird intense attraction to Caucasian chicks. In his mind, just because it’s another girl, she’ll probably fuck him better, suck his dick better, even if she just slurps the tip. His mind will be blown just because it’s something new. I’m already a lil iffy about Rachel’s ass being anywhere near him. I mean I could definitely do a 3-er with Josh when I was with him because I knew he loved me and my head and the sex I gave him. I wanted to have sex with the hottest white girl he could find. But I’m not the same. I am fatter, I have stretch marks and I’ll be damned if another girl gets to laugh at me because my boyfriend wants her more. I already have a black ass, nasty bodied bitch that thinks she’s better than me because Perry fucked her. I’m not having this. I’ll say I’m cool with it, I suppose because theres nothing really wrong with what he wants, but I’m not doing that shit. Fuck that. Get another girlfriend if you think that shit is happening.

                An afterthought: I miss Josh so much.

 

Clean Fun

I need two wine blacks

Blacks, a roof, and a pitch black night,

I need the Midwest, a lighter, and an Aerosmith record

That sounds about right

Now maybe that will remind me of myself

How crazy cool life used to feel

When six in the morning was late not early

And vodka induced day dreams seemed so real

Hand fighting against the wind as we pushed towards the sunrise

Sipping Marlboros and orange juice

electrically wired with life

where did it all go

why don’t I wonder as much anymore

why do I feel as if I know

I used to make up the rules as I went,

With sundrenched skin and red wine lips

I need to do now, and not save for later,

Yea I need a roof, a lighter, maybe

A shot of Jaeger

A smile, a touch, a bite of the tongue,

Two blacks, a roof, a dose of being young

                                                    

I take things much too deeply to heart. I forgot what it’s like to be alone and I guess I just figured it out all over again. I love the people down south. They may be kind of dumb to the world around them and a little conservative but whatever at least they’re nice and reliable. When they say they’re going to do something most of the times they do it. I mean shit. Either I’m the lamest, most unliked girl in Chicago or just ugly or something because two guys have already stood me up!! This has never happened to me in life ever!!!!!!!! I mean, wtf? I guess Perry is right, I am that person that doesn’t need to be there. I’ll just live my life like that I guess: the back burner bitch. But whatever, life just gets worse the older I get. I’m ugly with adult acne, and fat as hell, and bald headed. It really can’t get much worse than that!! God, can I just go back to maybe 10 months ago and just start it all over? I’d choose to break up with Josh but just fuck Perry. I’d stay with Mitch for a bit, have my grades together, and get into a fab sorority. I’d stop Reema from getting all weird on me. I mean, why do I have to spend my life so dayum alone??? Fuck Victor and trying to make something happen. Light skinned, think-they’re-all-that guys suck ass. Chicago people suck ass. Period. They’re all so stuck up and don’t know how to just have fun even though it’s a city full of potential fun. Do they know what my peeps in Arkansas would do to have a city like this? And they’re all getting their rocks off being douche bags. Whatever. I’m so done. Arkansas here I come. I will never live in a city where a girl as cute as me gets fucking stood up!

 

 

 

 

 

You want the truth? I fish for compliments in every conversation. I slide on shorts rolled three times higher than legal just to attract a needed attention that eats at me like a pesticide. This want is sucking me dry. I can’t stand to hear any other girl be praised or picked before me. I don’t like hearing about any of my short comings. I’ll say anything to make a head turn. I’ll do anything crazy just to have a piece of the fun that I dream of in my quiet world of human rejection of kinship. I have no friends. Pierre and I don’t click anymore. Most of the times, I hate my boyfriend. Most of the times I find my grandmother and mother too boring and lame to bear. I love my little sister because she’s pretty. I have always wanted to be my older sister. I don’t know what to say to my younger brothers: I mean- what can we have in common? I don’t want anything from life. I mean-nothing. I have no values. No goals except for to be highly sought after and –hush- popular! I am jealous of all the girls and people my boyfriend prefers over me. I hate anyone who isn’t exactly how Josh and his friends and some of my old associates at Clay were. I miss the fun I had in the Josh era. I don’t miss Josh. I used to almost throw up after he kissed me and refused to give him tongue or head. I just want my boyfriend to be adventurous with me and love me all the time. I feel uncomfortable with my step dad. I don’t like him at all and yet I feel a need to act cordial to him. I don’t know why. I sometimes wish my great grandmother Marguerita were dead so I didn’t have to worry about remembering to call her and trying to find the words to say to a woman who I want to stab myself in the eyes while talking to. I hate thinking about anything I can’t grasp immediately. I hate arguments that I can’t win. I hate being told that I’m wrong- I’ll say that I find it patronizing. I used my cousin as a friend to hang out with other people. I was angry that Victor was so lame because I wanted him to be that fine guy that was so hard to get. He’s not a good brand of person. I think I am about the coolest, most together person on Earth but no one gets my language. I hate being around any girl that Perry has fucked or admires. I hope to see that bitch Ebony every time we walk into Wal-Mart to test my anger. To see if I’ll just have the gumption to haul off and slap her ass or to be extremely rude. I want to fuck Perry’s roommate just because he’s tall and hasn’t stared at my boobs not once. I wish my life were a music video. Music is everything inside me and my life is and has always been a narrated novel. Every personality that I have ever had has been concocted-whether good or bad. I chose the role of a slut in high school. I still want to be a slut. I am an attention junky and whore. I don’t get why people think I’m attractive because I despise myself. I want to cut myself and become anorexic to express an anger and inner turmoil inside myself that writing and speaking cannot project. I want to scream for someone to pay attention—for someone to be my friend and not fuck me over. I have given up on ever having friends. I have never related to anyone in my life. I don’t know anyone like me. I don’t know how many guys I slept with and I am afraid to get bloodwork because I have an awful feeling in my stomach. I may be pregnant again. Did you like the truth? Do you know me? I don’t know me…so fuck you if you said yes.

 

Well, another day another failed attempt at making my own boyfriend bust a nut. Yes, we have sex every day like 3 times a day. I think a lot of times he’s jealous of how many times I can cum when he does it about 3 times a week out of all that raw fucking. Let’s just be truthful, I’m embarrassed and getting more and more insecure about my standing in this relationship. I just want my boyfriend to love me and want me to fuck me. I don’t want him to have to peek in on stupid Charli and Rachel because he is jealous that Charli gets to fuck her and not him. I know that’s what he’s doing. Also, he toys around with the idea of other girls and talks to them on his phone. I’m not an idiot.  He loves me but I guess I just really suck at sex. The thing is: I didn’t used to. I used to be great at it. But to tell you the truth, I don’t enjoy it when he’s telling me, “baby, make your man cum.” It isn’t fun anymore when he does that, and it makes me feel like a failure. As much as it hurts, maybe we shouldn’t be together. Maybe I should just let him go and have sex with Rachel or Ebony or Tara or whoever the fuck tickles his fancy these days. I just…I want him to want me as much as I yearn for him and want his dick inside me every day. I want an answer! I wish someone would just come and give the answer to me and show me- a tutorial if you will- how to make your man squirt goo-gobs of dick milk all over your face without thinking about some other chick as he tears apart your pussy from the back and you pretend to not be thinking, “What if I can’t make him cum this time?”

You know, I hate Perry. It’s like I love him and I want to be with him, but I have this intuition that he is cheating on me or flirting with girls on his stupid phone. I mean, come on, you got bitches texting you all day and at 11:00? You have a girlfriend! But I guess all guys are the same fuck heads, huh? Maybe  I shouldn’t have been so faithful to this one if I knew what he was out there doing. I was so free with him and trusting. Well, not anymore. He can kiss faithful goodbye. I’m going to flirt with whomever I want. Fuck these stupid ass men. I mean, look at Tcomp! Then again, nevermind, he’s too cute to be monogamous and so is his little sidekick, Don. Ah, pretty boys. I’m tripping. I just wish that Perry wanted me half as much as I want him. He tries to play me so stupid by acting as if his incessant texting is not to a girl he’s not supposed to be talking to. I know he’s still in cahoots with Ebony. I wish he wouldn’t underestimate me as stupid. I mean seriously. I don’t even think about anyone but him and you know I’ve had fine ass men offer. Of course, they’d probably do me the same way. Maybe knowing that is what is holding me back. I wish I didn’t hate him so much. Wow, now he’s going out. Wonder where. Didn’t even say goodbye.  I texted him ‘Have a wonderful time, dear.’ You know what, I hope he does go fuck somebody else. So I won’t feel guilty when I let Tcomp eat my pussy lol I won’t anyways. The sad part of this is that I won’t do what I’m saying. I only love Perry. Wish he felt the same.

One turn down a dirt road off of the US-30, quasily hidden behind a scatter of dying trees was the Pecan Ridge mobile home facility; a sixty year old establishment that had been built on a big patch of arkansas red clay. This made the area almost always annoyingly sloppy, so that all of the residents- which were mostly old people- wore rainboots out even when it wasn't raining.

It was a crummy place to live and everyone there knew it. Infact, if you just happened to pass by riding the highway on over to louisiana, you'd think the place was deserted.

The area was devastatingly rural. The only neighboors to the Pecan Ridge were at least two miles down the two lane highway, and they ran a slaughterhouse so there was always the smell of blood and burning pork in the air. That, was perhaps the only thing that Robbie enjoyed about it, the morning always tasted like bacon.

On the Monday exactly two weeks before he made his first kill, Robbie had woken up at six in the morning to breathe in the delicious and deceiving smell of frying pork. When he was a kid, he used to run to the kitchen and hope that his mother was there moving strips of bacon around in a pan with a greasy fork, but after so many times of dissapointment, he had trained himself to expect much less.

He swiped the sheet that functioned as his bedroom door away and stepped into the living room that stunk of cat piss and cigarette stubs. His mother was infront of their small t.v. watching judge Mathis and smoking one on the sunken couch. Though she was moving- the cigarette in and out of her mouth- she was more like a statue. She said nothing to her sixteen year old son, who wore the same clothes that he had on all weekend, as he moved quietly through the double wide and out the door. On second thought, as he forced open the broken door she yelled,

"Bring back some Busch!"

 

The ground sank and slid beneath him as he walked with his hands shoved in his pockets, working the worn gym shoes against the unruly terrain.

There was a pink trailer at the end of the park, down by the empty and crumbling swimming pool that somebody had tried to build back in the 70's. Now, kids from further down the road came there to blow trees and drink brewskies. Sometimes they lit bonfires at the bottom of the shallow side with scrap wood and brought girls. The small parties would end at about three in the morning when the old people had had enough and the kids would slip back into their trucks and hook up or go back to their own homes. God, he hated those damned kids and that nasty, grimy pool and in fact that pink house that he went to every morning. The one with the lacy white window curtains and the lollipop wind chimes.

He climbed up the cement blocks that made steps up to the door and knocked. It swung open, making the wind chimes go crazy. "Mitzy 'aint here." The woman at the door told him with a sly little smile playing across her plump lips. One of her eyebrows were raised and Robbie noticed that the salmon pink robe she was wearing was open enough so that he could see an obscene amount of her full cleavage.

"She left by herself?" Robbie asked. He didn't like the idea of that.

"You know she 'aint did that. Some boy in a truck came and picked her up. Aint that better than you walking her to the bus stop, Robbie G.?"

"I suppose, Miss Kim." Robbie answered. She smelled like too much designer imposter perfume and his mother's cigarettes and he could hardly stand to be around her for too long, even if everyone in town said that she was one hot peice and he'd heard the guys at his school tease Mitzy about how her mother was a "milf".

She was surgically enhanced with elbow length blonde hair and a slutty tattoo stamped right below the indentation of her spine. This made him shiver with disgust.

Mitzy, her sixteen year old daughter, was nothing like her. She was thin with hardly any chest to speak of. Her hair was naturally dirt blonde and shined in the sun. He'd seen it wet and curly when she came out of the lake. She was sweet and quiet natured.

"Hey, Robbie, you know they're trying to turn off my cable this month over fifty dollars."

"I'm sorry about that, Miss Kim."

"You think you can loan me a few dollars?" She asked, fingering her robe. "You want to come in for a few minutes?"

"You think you can loan me a few dollars?" She asked, starting to play with the edges her robe. "You want to come in for a few minutes?"

Robbie let out a surprised snort and laughed it off when she gave him a furious look. He'd heard how Kim would do anything for money, but he hadn't known the true extent.

"Y-you know I aint got no money, Miss Kim. My last ten im spending on Mama's Bucsh."

Kim smiled again, pulling the little pink froth closed and knotting the rope around her waist.

"Alright then," she said as she stepped behind the door and closed it.

 

This was how life was in a trailer park where everyone was living off of social security and welfare. This was how life was for Robbie:

 

One thing that he hated was running for the bus. It tried to leave him behind almost every day, sometimes coming twenty minutes early so as to miss him. He caught it on this particular day. But finding a seat was a more exhausting task. The bus was short but there were only twenty kids that lived along the highway and it was built for seventy give or take. It always got especially quiet when he climbed the stairs up to where the seats were. His school mates were almost always splayed across their seats pretending to be sleep so that he wouldn't ask them to move. Their bookbags were strewn on some of the empty seats too, guarding the row behind, to the side, and in front of them. It had been happening since the fifth grade and every year the kids got even more thorough with that effective form of social rejection. It was interesting and ever so ironic to Robbie that every teenager on the bus 131 was dirt poor and unpopular. He tried to remind himself of this every time they repeated the stupid routine of barring him from empty seats and giving him dirty, disgusted stares; pretending to barf at his pimples and scarring blemishes. Still, he was hurt every time. There was no getting used to it, and this day was no different. It was made worse by the fact that he didn't have Mitzy with him to shrug her shoulders and lead him confidently to the very back.

“They’re bitches.” Robbie could imagine her saying as they sat down in the very back. He loved to watch her in that seat, getting a small nap before the bus got to its destination. Sometimes, when she couldn’t get her eyes to close, she’d brush her hair to one side and press her forehead up against the glass window, eyes wandering and not committing to any one thing. In fact, her eyes were always doing this: roaming. As if she was always trying to find something good to rest them on.

“Where’s the blonde bitch?” A girl asked, leaning over the back of her seat to unleash a venomous smile. Her teeth were sharp like a poisonous snake and her eyes were a piercing shade of blue.

“You don’t care anyways, Muffin.” Robbie answered, avoiding her cold stare.

“But you do, huh? Too bad you can’t stare at her today, breathing over her shoulder like a dog.” The girl laughed deeply before cutting her eyes at him, “The only reason she even bothers with you is because she’s a slut. Her and her whore mother. You know, you’re trying too hard to get her to fuck you. All you have to do is hand her a twenty dollar bill.”

Muffin was something a step below ugly when you stared her fully in the face. She was short and stout with rounded shoulders and a completely shapeless torso. That’s where she had gotten her name. She didn’t seem to mind it, considering it was an upgrade from what kids used to call her in grade school: Mumpshkin. She used to sit in corners, biting her nails and hiding her greasy brown hair with her brother’s dusty baseball cap. 

I want Mitzy to be his last kill. I want a boy that is making fun of him to be his first. His name will be Jared and he will have embarrassed him infront of Mitzy. He will meet him out at his car and slap him with a metal rod. He will be scared and bury him in the woods. Then, he begins to kill more and more. Mitzy and him spend time together at her mother’s house. She’s angry at her mother and tells him to fuck her. He does and its rough and quick sex on the floor. She is moaning and screaming as he takes her from behind. She screams and then collapses and he pulls out, never cumming. He moves to kiss her and she denies him and pulls back on her shorts and goes into her room. He leaves and eventually becomes obsessed with her, killing whomever even wrongs her. When he confronts her, telling her all hes done for her she yells at him in disgust and tells him how disgusting she thinks he is. How she hates him.  He smothers her and rapes her. He ends up killing her. He is crying and her mother comes in and starts hitting him and crying, “my baby! My baby!” She had been trying to pimp out her daughter.

 

 

He carries daphodils/ got a paper full of prose/ he talks in riddles and takes awhile to get wherever he goes/ his bikes a rusty piece of shit/ and he knows it too/ the only thing he seems to give a fuck about is you/ so, why…/ do you keep on ignoring his calls and why… do you keep him sleepless at nite/ wishing, hoping that you will find…/ a space in your heart for him../so why…/ why/ why/

You know you’ve got em wrapped/ around your little pinky/ he smells like axe and cinnamon/ so why do you tell him its stinky/ you make him feel like a wreck/ a hopeless feign/ and he has trouble tryna find the lines in between/ so why…/ do you keep him wanting../ why…/ do you know he cries at night and don’t care/why../ does it please you to hurt him/ when all he wants is a little space../in your heart for him

Ohhh youre such a little bitch/ oh your kindness is so rich/ oh your feeding him your pill/ oh but its poison/ and you’re the one whos ill/

http://www.experienceproject.com/confessions.php?cid=145173

I have another idea for a story in my head. It’s about two sisters who go to live with their mother’s husband after their father’s fight with cancer ends. They have no other family except for their crazily religious aunt who is a jehova’s witness and their father has hated her strict ways since the beginning. She thinks it is utterly ridiculous and inappropriate for the girls to go and live with their “slutty” mother, who left their father for a younger, much more handsome man. The girls go to live with him and instantly, the oldest sister falls in love with him. She will stop at nothing to be with him, starting an obsessive rage.

Anyways, me and Reema actually had sex yesterday (10/3/09)  It started out with her just talking that shit she always talks about wanting to try sex with another girl. I laid down with her and she took my head and started kissing it, holding my hand lightly against her tiny little tits. I don’t remember who kissed whom first. I think it was me though. I was mad nervous and was surprised when she kissed me back and then grabbed my head and said,

“you’re beautiful. Look at your big tits.” She took them in her hands and started sucking on them and I went crazy. I grabbed hers and and gnawed on them like jawbreakers. She was moaning so hard and it was making me cum all in my panties. And I was on my period! I then kissed down her body and pulled off her pants. I was about to open her closed legs and then we heard Isra open the front door so she hurried(naked) into the bathroom and I jumped on the computer. Well, the door was locked and Isra came in with Inna in tow. They were looking as if they suspected something but they didn’t say anything. Later, we cooked dinner for eachother and went back in the bedroom to watch a movie. Her arms went around me and I felt so good. Then, we watched a threesome on xnxx.com and we both got extremely worked up. I told her to let me try to eat her pussy. Oh god, I’m a lesbian. I loved every minute of munching on her wet little snatch. I had her ass in my palms, lifting her little body up and squeezing her little nipples with my fingertips as I did it. Her ass is little but is soft and jiggles. I loved playing with it. She tastes so sweet. It makes me embarrassed to ever get my pussy eaten again by a guy because mine tastes sour compared to her strawberry like juices that were running down all over her thin thighs and small, childish pussy lips. I put my fingers inside of her and was welcomed by such a warmth. Now I know y men love women so much! I wanted to fuck her so bad. My fingers plunged inside of her. I used two fingers and hit her g-spot so hard that she moaned “oh, you’re hurting me.” I was a bit angry at that because-ah!-I’m supposed to be better at this than a man because I know what it feels like. But I haven’t been a pussy virgin in a long time and so I forgot how it stings when someone puts two fingers all the way up in you. I was finger raping her! Lol I’m kidding. I could tell she loved every minute of it from how much she came. And when it was over she kissed me all over and told me,

“I’m so glad I got to do this with you, Khadija. I’ve liked you for so long.”

But the thing is, I don’t like Reema. I just want to fuck her. I think she is highly annoying at times and needs way too much attention. She’s jealous of Perry and never wants me to spend any time with him at all. She says he’s just another one of those asshole men. I like men. I’ll never be a lesbian. But, I think she is this way. I think she wants me to be this way as well. She says, come to Canada with me. I’ll never go anywhere with her. I’d rather put up with Perry’s craziness. But seriously, I want to taste her cunt again. And I want to lick those little breasts of hers, with those tiny brown nipples. I want to hurt her so bad that she nuts all over my fingers and tongue and begs me not to stop. Well, practice makes perfect. Lol Perry knows that we kissed but nothing else. He’s angry about it. I don’t see it how he does. I’ll never love Reema so what’s the point of getting angry?

 

 

 

 

Rotting Meat

It’s not unlike the things you’ve certainly heard

The rumor has been spread

The truth has been preferred

The shame to these times is that nothing is a mystery anymore

The ocean has proven to be blue,

No longer is she called a whore

Equality has equaled boredom

And yet I’m still begging for more

More,

More.

 

He grows

Like a snake skimming across water

He grows

and tumbles there, around at my place

fucking freeloading

 

I hate myself and I don’t know what to do.

The Fate of a Woman

Let me ask you a question: What happens when a woman looks in the mirror and doesn’t see sexy there anymore?

Her eyes are dead, her cheeks are no longer rouge with youth, and things sag and smell like they didn’t before. Beautiful is gone, gorgeous is no more. And of course there is no sympathy. Sympathy is for the good looking, the thin. Ugly people and beautiful people don’t get it. It’s the best kept secret whispered among the genetically elite.

                So now, let me ask again: What happens when a woman stares down her reflection, searching for that old twist and curve on the very side of her mouth and finds monotony there instead. I’ll tell you what happens: what she is really seeing is the beginning of a black hole, a growing emptiness, a void that she will never be able to fill or replace. Though she will try. Yes, she will try to with all the most popular antidotes. First, there comes sex. But sex is a thing for the beautiful bodied and confident. He will not enjoy nor ravish her body like he used to. Whomever he may be. Even if he has never had her before. When she finds this out, she will move on to money, but she will find that the clothes she meant to buy with this money just don’t look as good on this older, much more experienced body than that of the one she used to have, so she will move on to shoes because FEET never change. And she will keep this fetish until she gets a little bit older and then she will begin to forget. Forget what sexy ever felt like in the first place. Women. This will happen to all of us, no matter how beautiful now. Our gorgeousness only puts off the devoutness for awhile; for another day. But one day you will see, that strange emptiness peeking over your shoulder.

 

If I were to be honest, I mean truly honest, cut all the bullshit and self denial, I would have to say that I have never been liked. Never. And yes, it hurts. My problems root from deep within, from a lifetime of social rejection. I lack any social intimacy and have for all of my life. The thing is, I don’t have any idea why.

You see, I’m one of those people that if you spell out things for me exactly the way I am to do them, I can execute them and do a spectacular job, but if I’m to guess for myself I get nervous and tend to have a natural distrust of my own instincts. It is because I feel so…incomplete. It’s as if I can’t ever just get things right.

The silly stupid thing is that for every one of these 19 years, I’ve been waiting for something or someone to intervene and make it come together. I’ve been waiting for a person inside of me to step out and be everything that I want to be. To have friends. To learn how to be close to people. The truth is that the only real friend I’ve ever had is the mirror. I don’t say this in a vain way either, except for that short period in my life between 16 and 18 when my body seemed to just be perfect in every angle. It’s strange that I don’t refer to my best friend as myself, since in retrospect, the reflection is me. But in that mirror I’m someone else. That mirror loves me, even when I look bad, it can picture me as a tall, skinny Brazilian girl with long brunette tendrils and hazel eyes, combing her locks out of her face sexily and staring herself down with a smoldering eye. When I’m not in that mirror, I’m just Khadija., which seems to mean: always out of place. T.V. and people around me say it’s not that bad. They say everyone can’t be popular but we’ve all got at least one group or person we click with. I don’t. Not one. Even my mother and grandmother, who are best friends, make me sick with how close they are. They can talk to each other like pubescent school girls for hours. Who can I talk to? The guy who wants to fuck me? The girl who wants to fuck me? No. myself. Or the dog, even though this makes me feel twice as stupid and overly dramatic.

People ask me why I stay with the jerk that I’m with. They ask why I don’t just totally hate my step father for all of the things that he did to me even though I try. It is because I can’t brave stepping into the reality of being a lone soul on this planet. I need someone. Anyone. To just notice. To just Click. To love. I mean, Josh was the best friend I’ve ever had and I can’t help but to know that it was only because he wanted a relationship. He sported me like a brand new gold chain on Easter Sunday. Sure, his friends and I got along. We had one kick ass summer. But they wouldn’t have even talked to me if he hadn’t been there. Infact, when we’d go to parties, I’d be searching for someone to talk to and when I came up blank I’d stay in the kitchen drinking, sometimes dancing if a good song was on. And I LOVE to dance. I LOVE music. That is why I’d black out. That is why I go from boy to boy to boy to boy. I need someone. Anyone.  Imagine being me.

The worst thing is that I know I can blame the zip code, or the school, or the mindset of the peeps around me, but you see people surrounded with racists who still have a group of friends or at least one friend. I don’t. I’m alone. Have been for forever and sometimes I just want it to end.

To End.

What can I even do? I’m being truthful with myself now. What can I do?

 

1235 Apple Street. This is where my mother and I settled after the divorce. The last house I’d stay in long enough to remember until my grad school years.

It rests on a small slice of standard, crayon green land in a suburb not too far off from the edge of Chicago. The gated community it is surrounded by has a quiet façade. The stone and brick two stories sit at equal distances from the creamy clean curb and there are no screams of unruly children. It is the only place where even a dogs’ bark seems friendly. Garages stay half open in the summers while cars glisten in long driveways next to lone buckets of soapy water.

 

I SAY the word truth and everyone runs scared. Even at the mention of my own truth, my mother stares at her socked feet and turns toward the dishes. Everyone professes that they want it, they refuse to except lies from significant others and friends and co workers. But, no one really wants what they so tritely ask for.

The truth.

I’ve once told you the truth about myself, and even that truth was edited for my small ego’s sake.  If I hadn’t included at least one self preserving lie, then I would have gone mad with depression.

The truths of this world are enough to steal a person’s soul. And we wouldn’t want to take the devil’s job now would we?

Amendment: perhaps, the so called “devil” is the TRUTH. The more and more I hear about God he sounds like a fairytale. See, so much bad goes on in this world, I find it kind of an insult to think that a God exists. If he did, wouldn’t he be a hypocritical, narcissistic bastard that lets babies die of AIDS and racism survive and beautiful girls melt their looks off in car fires, and the existence of ugly people altogether…If he was such a good God couldn’t he just snap his fingers and make it all go away? We’re supposed to be his children. Someone should call DCFS on his ass and quick. Lol

Seriously though, God knows my true heart so I have no problem writing this down where no one will ever see it.

 

The burning is wonderful.

I can feel your sloping, hard tipped flesh

And wooden, locked stare

Fingers caught in tangled hair

Raspy compliments fading into the swollen

existence of the attraction between our

close, close bodies

dripping with sweat and the anticipation

of a plateau that never comes,

while we cum and cum and cum

he is at the back of your mind

as my fingers erase

excavate

and find

unleash

and rewind

the slow, gentle, brutal

hands of mother time

We rock into harmony,

Linked gaze, linked hips

Slow death

Fucking but not fucking you

Is wonderful.

 

Michael said this to me on facebook today: (copied straight out of the chatbox)

I think your beautiful

And inside you is a very strong person.

A lion

….a white lion

You just have to grow into it…faster

Than you let yourself… and stop being afraid

…of the metamorphosis

I

He thinks he’s such a poet.

 

“I am covered in skin

No one gets to come in…

Pull me out from inside..

..i am folded

And unfolded

And unfolding

I am..

colorblind”

-          Counting Crows ‘Colorblind’

 

I’ve got eighty dollars in a hidden pocket deep inside my worn off-brand purse, five more in the fire red, tiger emblem wallet I bought with an Express gift card. The stiletto cowboy boots I stab the moist earth with are jet black to match my hair and wrapped with studded cloth and thin metal chains-one of my creative touches. I am rocking the after concert 70’s rock star look tonight, loose leather vest and all. My hair is spilling down my back, parted in the middle with a random braid on the side holding a single eagle feather. I’d thrown the outfit together in a matter of seconds after my roommate suggested beer and dancing would get my anger and disappointment into check. After all, a little man trouble was no match for a night out chugging beer with wild fraternity boys trying to live up to the hype of every National Lampoons’ movie.

“You look…interesting.” Celeste, the roomie noted as we assisted eachother in wading through the muck that surrounded Pyros Bar aka, a low budget juke joint-like space in Monroe, Louisiana backwoods. 

The download list that I’ve acquired at home:

Bad habits- Maxwell

The stroke- Billy Squier

You Sexy Thing- Hot Chocolate

Mambo 5- Lou Bego

Now I’m that Bitch- Livvi Franc

My Heart- Lizz Wright

You make me feel like dancing- Leo Sayer

Love Hangover- Diana Ross

Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart- Alicia Keys

You dance like a freak- ??

The Greatest Dancer- Sister Sledge

Solos (remix) – Tony Dice

Benny and the jets- Elton John

All I wanna do is have some fun-??

Soak up the Sun- Sheryl Crow

Ascension (Don’t Ever Wonder)- Maxwell

Evacuate the Dance floor- Cascada

Big Boy- eldee

If I Aint got you- Alicia Keys

Loba (remix)- Shakira

Say I – Trey Songz

This Love- Maroon 5

(acoustic)

Fear the Reaper- Blue Oyster Cult

99 Red Balloons- ??

Let it be- Beatles

 

Love it? I know. It’s the ish.

 

So I’m riding Amtrak once again. It’s a fucking days drive and so yeah..I’m bummed.  Firstly, I would rather be getting to know Victor a little more today. He’s such a flip floppy, confusing bastard. He’s moody like a girl and I wonder are all attractive guys just as wimpy. I mean, the guy is bipolar as all get out, plus ADHD which I figured to be a good thing except, no conversation holds with him. Whatever. I’m listening to Baby Love and I have some other things on the mind right now so I might be rambling on. Oh my god, I just got the strangest feeling a second ago. I felt like I’d actually be happy to see Perry. I kinda want to talk to him.

 

I broke up with Perry weeks ago and ever since my life has been entertainingly dramatic and wonderful. Every minute of my days has been spent in happy moods. I’m doing something different every few hours; meeting someone I haven’t met or who knew of me because of Perry, but never got to know me because I was with him all the time. It’s been a blast.

                But getting rid of Perry was the problem. I tried to end it swiftly and clean by admitting to him that I slept with Josh. The night that I told him in the car, he cried for an hour and tried to keep me in, telling me that it was okay and that he deserved it for treating me so crappy over the entire duration of our relationship. I did the first smart thing that I’ve done in awhile: I got out of the car and walked away. Up to my room where I cried it out for like 2.6 minutes, went to Shakara’s room to chill, and ended up getting a call from P.J., the guy who helped me lift my bags into my room. We talked for hours, and he recited his made up, predictable poetry that were always about love. We ended up meeting halfway at the center of campus (the mall) and walking back to his dorm. There, we played a game of Slave and Master. He ended up having to flash everyone his ass and dick. He made me kiss him and take off my clothes. Then, he ate my pussy. He didn’t want me to fuck him, but he did anyway. It was short lasting. I came, he didn’t and didn’t even attempt to.  Whatever. Anyways, Perry and I ended up making peace and decided to be friends. No benefits. So, I did his hair for him( oh wait, not before smacking myself  in the face with the car door; it went through my lip) and we talked. I said I’d take him to a party with me and I did. We went to Arthur’s place. It was fun. Ashwini immediately hugged me and started introducing me to randoms at the party. One of them being this guy named Lonnie. Lonnie is sweet as hell and an ex baseball player so he’s built, with a silly sort of face and kind of reminds me of my brother, Jeremy. He’s hella cool though. I gave him my number at the party while Perry was spacing out and he text me that very night to make sure I’d gotten home okay.

Long story short, we started hanging out a week ago and haven’t really stopped. We went to his friend’s house( the “Blue” house) and chilled, drank nasty, warm beer and watched some crazy assassin movie with 50 cent in it. We smoked a bit. Not enough to get me fucked up but enough to make us talk for like 3 hours in the parked car. And then fuck in the Honors parking lot. Yeaaah, I gave it up on the first night…again. Oh well. I blamed it on the gaunja. Newayz we’ve been talking and hanging out. Went to another party together last Friday at Ashwini’s in which Shakara acted so lame and decided to leave because she wasn’t comfortable. Oh well. Fuck it. I had a good time after she left. We smoked with Lonnie’s friend, Josh (cool ass white boy who’s in love with Temitope and thinks she’s a friggin princess and model; which she’s not either but we won’t tell him that). It was all going well until I got a little too fucked up. These niggas started putting about 20 blunts into rotation (no lie!) at the Blue House. I got higher than I’ve ever been before with Lonnie at my side and we just laughed at his crazy ass, honest friends. He signaled me and I followed him to the bathroom, where we made out and then kind of just fell into this room next door with a sheet. He put on a condom and I rode his long, thin dick like I’d never had penis before. It felt soooo good. Maybe, cus we were high but whatever. In the middle of our fucking, though, his motherfucking crazy ass, nosy ass friends were sneaking and watching us. They came and snatched the sheet back and were like:

“Oh damn, yall are fucking!” Like they didn’t know from my moans. OHHHHHHmygod I was so embarrassed. So was Lonnie (I think) but he was reassuring me the whole time that I was good and nobody had any bad thoughts  about me because of what happened. Josh, the white guy kept saying “it’s alright you have a gorgeous body.” Yeah, whatever motherfuckers. Don’t try to butter me up now, I was thinking. So anyways, Lonnie was taking me back to Honors but I threw up and felt like I couldn’t get up the stairs so he did the nicest thing and took me to his house. I didn’t have to walk up any stairs. I just fell into his bed and he fed me Pringles and I woke up the next morning with spit all over my face in his house. I’d thought I was in my dorm room. I wasn’t. Lonnie hurried up and took me home, offering a cigarette to calm down my paranoia about the last night. That ish was crazy and embarrassing. I never felt like such a skanky hoe in all of my life. (well…I think anyways) Since then, he called me to ask if I was okay. And then called to talk to me when he was on delivery at Dominoes. He texts me randomly every few hours, you know whatever. But, I really don’t know how he feels about me at all. I don’t know if he likes me or just likes fucking me when I’m fucked up. Anyways, I really like him. And I need to stop leading Perry on. I need to find the strength within myself to just let him go, but whatevs. I’ll tell him when I’m ready. He’ll be fine. Anyways, I’ve got a 8 oclock in the morning so….gotta get to sleep. Ttys

 

Again, I’ve fucked a good thing up…with the help of sex.

Lonnie was a nice guy. We met at a party. We talked and had a good ole time. I went over his friend’s house and we smoked together. Talked in the car for hours on end. Then we fucked. He’s 23 I want to say. Older but really, extra cool. Smart. Has a good head on his shoulders. Silly. White boy silly, the way I like them. Respectable. Dresses decent: he’s a bring home guy. Baseball player. Cut body. Sexy big lips. Cute, silly smile. Treated me really nice when I first met him. He opened his raggedy car door for me. Fuck my phone just broke. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can’t even talk about stupid Lonnie anymore. Fuck this! Why is god so determined to make everything so damned hard?????

Anyways, the phone is fine fortunately! But the thing with L. is still unresolved. But I just decided whatever, I need and deserve better anyways. I need a guy that’s fun like he is and fits me even more. Dude, I just want somebody to snuggle to that’s NOT perry. I want somebody I can take it slow with. Somebody I’ll wait on sex with. Someone I can make love to and actually like or love them more than just one night. Someone I’ll let treat me right. Someone a lot like me. I just..ugh its like everyone has their own and I want one.

Anyways, fuck L. On to the next! Maybe Sandeep lol

 

Hey silly smile

Got me open and all the while

You smile

Silly chuckle, joke, whisper, touch

Silly lips

And joking eyes

Your attention is enough

With your silly, rusted car

And thin, toned body

A pitcher’s arm and knees

your silly ways are all I need

 

Shakara

milk bound tits

rounded, lost hips

her six foot

cuts into 4 as she sits

kicks up her feet

worn, rubbed purple from the day

at the heel the skin pulls

and parts away

her lightly lipped mouth

it cackles now

skin stretching tightly across

straight white teeth

cheeks flow directly into eye

and eye straight into my soul

as she tells me the truth

that my heart already knows

and my tongue wont help lips say

we sit and talk

us two

me and her

her towering over me

an overgrown tree

she is so much taller

although we share the same amount of bark rings

her hand takes residence upon my shoulder

and she pets out the tears

my replacement mother,

my peer,

my ace-boon-coon,

the root of my beer

dont ever leave.

 

She lives in my lap

My head is bouncing, moving with my lips

Hips rocking, to the beat they are intuitive

You turned me on to it

You- the carrier of my disease

Imagined liaisons of bitten skin and carpet burned knees

Us blowing trees

And sipping your favorite drink

Rum, I think?

Finally I can light enough candles on my cake

To feel your fingers trail down my stomach like tiny snakes,

And fill the night with screams and the slap of sweaty flesh,

Drink of another until not one drop is left

But you’re gone,

You’re disappeared

And I’m left fucking these pointless dicks, trying to find

My way back to those eyes, that ‘fro, that metal pick

That smile,

That accent straight from the BK

New York

Is that where you are?

Strumming your base

Becoming a star?

I want you back

I want the real and not the fantasy

Baby come back to me

 

This morning I woke up scratching my ass crack and saying hello the world with a big mouthed, stale breathed yawn. I was expecting to open my eyes and see dirty piles of soiled and unsoiled clothes on the vacant bed at the other end of the room. The desk chairs splattered with clothes, thong, and bra from the drunken night before, but instead all I saw was a pale face smeared with makeup and hot pink hair. God, did I jump out of my skin! My hand immediately extracted itself from my butt and I fought to find pieces of clothing in the jumbled up mess of covers and sex paraphanelia. I hurried to force on my shoes and headed out of the door, checking my hair and face in the hallway mirror of her dormitory. “I look like hot shit.” I said to myself, admiring the strong waves that had created themselves within my hair in the time I’d been sleeping. The only thing messed up was the foundation on my skin and the unshapeliness of my brows. Quietly, I headed back to Honors in the limited light of dawn. As I walked the night before began to slowly come back to me. It was like peeling the skin off a really bad sunburn(not that I wuld know how that feels). I remembered the weed. I remembered driving around our small, college town in Buck’s dope boy Chevy-birthed straight out of the seventies- passing around perfectly twirled blunts and laughing. Buck and Justin or J.Ross sat in the front, totally oblivious to the fantasies that Destiny and I were coming up with and sharing. I imagined that both boys were fucking me with Destiny watching, then Destiny fucking the other one. Destiny’s dream was a little more tame, and she was screwing JRoss in it while I was with Buck. Oh sure, it was all fun and games talking about it amongst ourselves until she had to mess up my night and tell them what was on our minds. “What’s on your mind, Destiny?” JRoss asked. “Big dick. And it’s on Khadija’s mind too.” She laughed. They both chuckled and asked whos room we were chilling in. I protested, but being high I was easily influenced into it all. We came into the room and I immediately threw off my shoes and plopped in Destiny’s bed. I think she sat next to me and started sucking on my titties, which she has done before to get me in the mood. The boys saw this and hurried to rip off their clothes. Buck climbed on top of me and started making out with me and sucking on my nipples. I felt his dick and nearly ran. That shit has to be at least ten inches long! I wasn’t that wet so I knew that huge thing was going to tear my walls apart. And beat me up it did. His dick slammed so hard against the back of my pussy that it had me cringing on sex for days afterwards. Even now, it is the beginning of spring break and I’m stuck with the most horrible yeast infection I’ve ever had. When Buck bust his nut, I climbed on top of Destiny for some reason and started grinding my pussy into hers. Buck ended up fucking me while I was on top of her. He pulled me up and started banging me senseless while I just screamed and screamed…

We smoked out of Derek’s pipe and bong. The bowl was delicious! So, it ended up, was his dick.            

3/5/10

Tonight was like a gasp of fresh air after years of breathing in poison. I was around the only folks besides my family that I love the most. And its not even because I’m so close to them. (Woah, I’m surprised I’m sober) It is because they are a group of people cooler than the other side of the pillow who just want to enjoy life. They are appreciative. Fun. Caring. Being around them makes me realize the difference between them and the people I usually have to deal with who carry so many frustrations and insecurities. Not to say that other friends aren’t worth having but I’m going to try my best to kick it with them. Tonight, I partied like it was 1999 and at the end of the night was still feeling good, not ashamed, nor angry because of some stupid person trying to ruin the shine in others. These people almost made me cry with their generosity and love and altogether liveness. I wish I could have videotaped the entire night seen through my eyes. Maybe to show to Shakara, to show her that people do not have to be formed by the life that their parents had. Fun is not debating 24/7 and constantly intellectually competing to see who is competent and who is not. The group I was kicking it with tonight was ten times smarter and driven than Shakara’s friends, who waste their time trying to talk about each other and decide who is good enough to be in their group and judge others. Not saying that this group was perfect because by all means they are not. They fight. They argue, but not over stupid pointless things that never should have mattered in the first place. It made me feel like a better person just to know that they are genuine and honest with me, that they like me for who I am. I just realized that that’s what I love about party people. They are so open to life and what is has to offer. Not really concerned about doing bad things to others because their own lives are satisfactory. For example, Shakara has to muster up the energy to even compliment me or share in my enthusiasm about something good in my life.

From tonight and on forever I love: Coloma, Kayla, Kassidy, Arthur, Joseph, Sam, Miriam, Brooks(iffy on that one lol) Valerie, and Yohane. They’re my number one homies

 

Well, how can I sum up the last two weeks? How about fucking horrible. The last two weeks ruined my life. That’s an understatement. I have something burning between my legs that I hope against everything is nothing but a yeast infection. My name about to be put in various articles right next to a misdemeanor charge of possession of marijuana, everyone calling me a slut(and knowing that I am), my ex throwing all this shit back in my face, and worst of all the guy that I finally found that is perfect for me I am loosing because of all of this. I’m on the brink of getting kicked from the university, both for grades, money, and now this on campus drug charge. I would kill myself but I keep thinking several things: first and most important- I’ll go to hell, then what if all this shit blows over, and third I’ll never get to see Red’s face again. Touch his body. Hold his hand. Ever. I’m not in love with him but I like him more than anyone I’ve liked for awhile. Just seeing him makes me tingle. It’s like everything was going so perfect at first: I had two great jobs, loads of wonderful friends, plenty of free weed and new connections. I even sang a solo for Encore and entered a pageant(which I will be dropping out of on account of my charges). I mean shit happens but the thing that makes this crap the hardest is that it was all my doing. How did I do it? I’m a fucking addict. To what? To weed. To attention. But mostly and most damaging: sex. The fact that Perry freed me from his tyranny doesn’t help it at all either. It just made me wild out even more like a preacher’s daughter on spring break. Boy, I tell you…I fucked more boys in 3 days time than my mother has fucked in her entire life. The number of guys I’ve given head to is countless and probably runs up in the thirties. I need to stop and now before I ruin my life worst than its already ruined. But what am I doing do you ask? I’m spending the money that I’m supposed to be paying back Red for bail on oxycodones to ease my fucking pain and if I’m feeling brave enough- off myself with. This pain still burns with a passion in my pussy. I have something. I know it. I’ve been denying it to be a yeast infection but I know I’ve got something. Hopefully Red doesn’t show up with it and I catch a bullet straight out of one of his shot guns. Anyway, I’m praying that doesn’t happen. Fuck. I hate my life. I hate my life. I can’t even cry because I know its all of my fault. There’s nothing I can do about that shyt. Over and out.

 

Note to self: Buy Gap Band greatest hits c.d. immediately!

Shakara and I chilled last nite and had a good ole time with Redd and his country ass cousin. Playing a game I can’t understand: dominoes and jigging to the gap band. The beginning of the night started out kind of crazy cus first of all Shakara normally doesn’t do group shit with me, but she did and it turned out to be in her element. When we got in the car, we laughed and joked and then Redd did something that I don’t know if it was a joke or what. His cousin’s house is deep into the woods, and when I saw this I made a comment like: “baby why you always taking me to the backwoods?” He smiled that eery little smile and sat the shiniest pistol in his lap in plain view. I truly got scared. I’m not used to that shit. Then, Lonnie’s ass just had to call me. I talked to him for a while about Spring Break and then Redd told me to tell him I’d call him back later. I did, knowing I wouldn’t. When we pulled up to the house Redd told me to lean close to him and grabbed me by the back of the head hard and pressed his mouth up to my ear saying: “Next time that nigga calls you better hit the ignore button.” I was shocked. But we got over it and ended up all lubby dubby by the end of the night. We had a freaking blast! And later, we dropped Shakara off at the dorms and jetted off to his place where we talked all night. I told him I loved him, he basically told me the same thing but not really. He only tells me in texts, which might be a sign. But anyways, he also told me if we were to move to a different state or school, we’d be chilling and totally happy. I took that to mean that we’re never going to end up together. He says he’s been looking at me since last semester. I wish he would have stolen me from Perry. I wish, I wish, I wish.

 

“There’s just something about the train that gets me all hot.” Jay said, her arms extending upwards as she stretched enticingly. I glanced around us. We were in coach, squished together in uncomfortable seats that only reclined an inch or two back, surrounded by whining kids and snoring grandmothers. I saw nothing that would make me jump on my best friend’s bandwagon and feel the same. I raised my eyebrows at her and stuffed my nose back into the thickest issue of Cosmo I’d ever purchased. “I’m for real, girl!” Jade snatched the Cosmo from my hands and stuffed it back into the goodie bag  that she’d packed for our entertainment on the damn near 14 hour drive from Little Rock, Arkansas to Chicago.

“I’m just wondering what the fuck could possibly make you all hot on this train!”

“Oh, I don’t know, the fact that we’re completely anonymous on this bitch. We can be anybody we want to be.

 

This has to be the worst train trip I’ve ever been on. First of all, I’m dying for something to eat and this fat old fucker beside me has been trying to hit on me since 11:00 last night. It’s 9:29 right now. And see, the thing is I usually give guys on the train a little play, get to know them, let them get to know the fake person I make up. I love being on long trips with people you know you’ll probably never see again. But this guy is almost downright amusingly bad at spitting game. He thinks just because I told him I was younger(almost damn near illegal) that he can boss me around and interrogate me. All he’s been doing is asking annoying question after question after question. It began with,

“Got damn. Hi, sweetness am I bothering you?” His black face is greasy and his clothes should be worn by someone 5 sizes smaller and 10 times finer. The interrogation began shortly after he plopped his little greasy ass in the chair beside me.

“What school do you go to? You from Chicago? How far is your school from Little Rock? You all alone in Magnolia? How old are you? That’s young, when’s your birthday? Where’d you get that bag? “ Then this bitch went too far, “You got a facebook page? Show me your pictures.”

The first mistake I made was attempting to lose myself, just that one night. Her fingers felt so good against my head as she stroked it softly, letting me know that it was time.

"Sip this, baby. It'll put you in a better mood."

Her deep, Texan accent wove itself around the thread of my veins and settled in my blood. She was handing me a styro-foam slushy cup from the Axxon gas station. I obliged obediently, taking in her sweet concoction of sprite, jolly ranchers, and liquid codine; allowing it to fill me. I sank down against the sticky pleather seats of her Sedan and glanced into her dark chocolate eyes. They ignited with a light so passionate and blunt that I shyed away and readjusted my gaze towards the car radio. She gave a cocky half smile, snickering a bit before shifting into reverse. We hit the bowl right on highway 9. I steered the wheel while she pressed the pipe between her lips and ignited the small pit filled to the hilt of sweet Mississippi kush.

 

 

 

Okay, wait a minute what’s today? April 8, a Thursday. Really, it’s been the 9th since twelve struck, but the event I’m about to disclose happened at the latter date. So do you want to take a guess at what I’m blushing my cheeks off about? I’m going out with Red! Who would have thought it was as simple as saying, “I want you to be my boyfriend.” But then again, I do have a hard time trusting and I kept thinking especially when he left with his friend later on, what if he was lying? What if he’s really going to see another chick? Oh well, I’m putting my heart in this so I hope it works out..

 

April 12, Mon….April 13 Tues. 4:32

Copied straight from facebook:

Dude…my mind is blown. I don’t care who knows. The dick was out of this world and fuck the rest! For years I’ve been afflicted with this desire to take dick in any orifice, every day, many times a day, but he has cured me. My pussy can’t work, won’t work unless his dick is buried deep inside it. Noel, I think I love you. Based on dick alone.

I’ already starting to forget. My body has been shutting down, limb by limb for minutes since he left. Hair is soaked, pussy is fucked and sucked clean from the three hour shower we took. The best shower of my life. Damn Honors water is better than anyone knows.

I’ll start from damn near the beginning because I’m afraid I’m about to pass out. It all started when Shakara dragged Noel into my room by the hand saying that she came bearing gifts. I’d been upset all day about Red’s note on facebook about loving Mia and just wanting to love me only because I love him better and more than she does. It really hurt me and I was distraught, laying in my bed with only facebook and youtube to comfort me. Seeing Noel sent a small jolt through my pussy and heart but nothing major. I’m used to it. He’s always dressed so spiffily. Always so fresh, smelling like Ed Hardy cologne and crisp from his deep finger waves, through his ironed Ralph Lauren fit (polo or plain v neck, stiff jeans that fit him perfectly) down to his Sparies. The boy has been known to send my kitty kat into throbs but my heart was aching and way too sore to burn for him as it usually did. I just smiled and played off my sadness, growing excited at the mention of mary jane. Soon, Noel and I set off on an adventure to find some. Me, off to the ATM to pay for it. I took a quick shower before the escapade because I was more than a little sweaty and worn out from the day. Totally ready to indulge in some illegal fun, I picked up the phone and dialed his number, eager to hear  his mad cool, slow and easy voice that seemed to seep over me like warmed honey. When he answered however, that voice was slurred and there was music in the background. I instantly grew pissed, “What the fuck! Yall smoked without me?” I exclaimed.

“Yah, I mean…I’m sorry. Who’re we gonna get to roll?” He tried his best at sounding sober and failed.

“You mutherfucker! I was really pissed today and needed a release and your ass had to fuck it up!” I went off.

“I’ll come over after we’re finished.” His voice pleaded for me to calm down. I hated acting like a withdrawing crack head but I couldn’t help it. My heart was broken and needed a mending that only MJ’s hands could fix.

“Fuck that. It’s okay!” I breathed out, and hung up. I wasn’t even playing anymore. I delved into angry texting and nearly lost myself in a wave of nausea that nearly resulted in tears. Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door. I looked down at the state I was in. I had on my most comfortable pink bra that had so much mileage on it, the white straps were beginning to fade into gray and the tiniest denim mini skirt I owned. Thinking it was Shakara, I yelled for the one with the hard ass knuckles to come in. Come in, Noel did. Looking like he was fighting gravity to stay up. His low eyes immediately widened when he saw my state of undress. He sat on my bed.

“Oh wow.” I said, genuinely surprised. I was about to get up and grab a shirt but looked down and decided “fuck it” since Noel had already seen me naked anyways thanks to a couple of high and horny nights. I really don’t remember what we initially said. All I know is, I unloaded all of my problems from that day onto him and he took it rather well,  even offered an ear to my questions concerning Red. He’s such a nice guy…and I knew it. He’d come to my room just to make up for standing me up. I told him he didn’t owe me anything. He responded, “Of course I do.”

We talked more and I relaxed, stretching back on the bed. He came next to me and put his head on my ass like a pillow, yawning and discussing something with me as if my butt really had sprouted duck feathers and soft material. He began caressing my back, kissing my sides, turning me on and trapping the words I wanted to say in my mouth. I moaned and he immediately came for me, pushing his tongue deep into mine. I pushed him off and told him we shouldn’t do it. “I’m hurting too bad right now.” I said.

“We don’t have to do anything.” He assured me and I laughed. Cus, yea right.

I let him stay and he continued to feel on my ass, shoving my skirt up a little to bite my ass and play with my thong. I let him with my soul still burning like the hot fires of hell from the rip endured earlier. I guess he got to a point where he couldn’t take it anymore because he climbed on top of me and slid my panties off, grabbing my hips and positioning himself in a place to unbuckle and penetrate. I stopped him with a “you should go.”

He got up to leave and started babbling the way that high people do saying that I was a seducer and I looked way too sexy to have man problems bla, bla, bla. For some reason, I felt bad denying him because he was trying to make me happy and I knew it. I unbuckled his pants on my knees on my bed as he rambled on. He only shut up when his dick was out and in my mouth, sliding back and forth. On hard it had to be a good ten inches. Ten inches that I stroked as well as five. I fingered his low hanging balls as they swung along to my rhythm. My pussy wettened and began to contract slowly, readying itself subconsciously for the penis. ‘Oh hell,’ I thought, ‘my pussy wants this. Might as well.’ I lay on my back and he climbed on top of me locking his eyes on me and pushing into me with one big…stroke. His hands dug into the sheets on either side of my head as I took the somewhat painful length of him inside me. His bottom jaw dropped three minutes into it and he came…all over my sheets and my lips, searing them with his hot semen. It felt good and I felt ashamed to love it.

Of course, I thought it was over and jumped up to wipe myself off with a towel. I was ready for him to leave. The fuck hadn’t been that good and I was ready to mope around again thinking about Red. Fate had different plans. Noel wouldn’t leave and sat on my bed once again, where we began to have a little heart to heart. Somehow, I don’t remember, I ended up face down in the covers screaming his name as he plowed me silly. I hung on to my headboard for dear life as he straight up slaughtered my vagina. Again, ten minutes later, he came all over my ass but we didn’t stop. The cum ran from the center of my cheeks down to the center of my asshole and I grabbed his dick and marinated the head in its own juices. He moaned as I slid him slowly into my ass. He only got three inches in before I was gliding him gently back into my warm pussy. I came then and he stopped, “we should shower.” He said. Famous last words!

I don’t know what possessed me to follow his advice but I’m glad I did. I led him to the floor’s communal showers and shushed him as I pushed his still high-as-a-kite ass into the very last and largest stall. “I’ll get you a towel.” I said. When I came back, I dropped it down in the shower chair and readied to bounce. He grabbed me by the arm and looked me in the face. “You need to get clean too.” It was on.

First, it started normally. I shrugged and pulled off my pink shower dress and unhooked my bra. He watched as I threw it to the side and stepped into the scalding hot water. I started to lather myself with my shower gel for a second and enjoyed the feel of his eyes on me. He took me by the shoulder and spun me around, pushing me up under the water to press his soft lips against mine. His hands took my waist and his tongue thought it lived right on top of mine. He pressed me up against the shower wall, dick in hand and lifted my leg revealing my pussy: voila! He entered me quickly and took no time fucking me royally up against the wall. He even lifted me up for a short period to give me that African rain dance sort of love. We fucked again and again in the water and out. I braced myself up against the wall and took it from the behind. Finally, he tired of this and told me that he wanted me to ride him in the shower chair. He sat down in the rusted thing (he will need a tetanus shot after that) and held his dick with the sexiest look on a face I’d seen since Makai Pfeifer in Higher Learning. I obliged and turned my back to him and sat on that dick like the very first time. I screamed out in pleasure as I rode him hard and fast, my moans echoing in the acoustically supportive 3rd floor bathroom. I rode and rode and he moaned with his eyes pressed shut and mouth swinging open when I allowed myself to fall down on him and take his rod deep. I clamped down my wall muscles on the way up, milking that dick, and he responded thankfully. I spun around and road him face to face, shuddering all over him and never faking it not once. The tip of his dick felt as if it were in my stomach the whole time. He loved me fucking him on that chair. Something in me just snapped thirty minutes into the whole ordeal and I began to cum and….haARD! I squeezed onto his neck and dug my nails into his developed shoulders as I massaged his penis with my walls. Sweat mixed with cum trickled between us, the scalding hot water from the shower sprayed down and washed it away immediately. I couldn’t take any more dick. Or could I? In a second, he took my moments of weakness to his advantage and had me with my hands and knees on the tile, facedown in a puddle of shower water fucking the sense out of me. I hollered out every explitive and took the lord’s name in vain on several different strokes. He was fucking me so hard that I was getting dizzy. He pulled out and jacked his now clear sperm onto the shower floor, grunting sexily. I was stuck in that position on that wet floor for at least three minutes, trying to figure out a way to pull myself up. When I finally did, he was standing there washing off under the steady flow of the water. I examined his beautiful black body, chiseled yet not too chunky, his dick hung down his thigh without being hard. I decided he deserved a good lathering. I begin to wash him tenderly, much like a mother does her young child. Sick right? Lol I knead his shoulders and back as I used the alouffa to spread bubbles all over. He soon returned the favor triple fold. He gave me a tender, yet lustful look that made me want to fuck him all over again. He took the alouffa from me and began kneading the shower gel into my skin. He took my breasts in two firm hands and handled them gently, stroking the soap onto them. He flipped me to the other side and washed me from my neck on down to my toes. You would think it was over…but NO. Far from it. He then turns me back around pushes my back and ass up against the wall, his hand is wrapped around my neck, the thumb exploring that lovely space between my collar bones. You know that spot that dips. He sucked the water off of me while giving me a little mini, pleasureful choke fest. I loved every freaky ass second of it. I have loved being choked since I started having sex but theres an art to it. And this boy got the art. He would take the neck and control it so that I would jolt back and forth against the wall to his liking. He lifted my leg in the air, onto his shoulder and began hitting my pussy that way. I moaned and wrapped my arms around him and let him give me that wet, hot love. We ended up on the chair again, e waxing that dick, sliding it in and out of my mouth. I sucked that dick like I was super head and I could tell he loved every last second. I think we fucked more. I jacked him off with my hands while he gripped my neck and moaned hard and loud in my ear. I jacked him with my thighs as well. He sat in the chair while I gave him a blow job with the water running across my ass and splashing up on my back and hair. It was crazy. Nuts. Like nothing I’ve ever done before. The best sex I’ve ever had in my mofoing life. You better believe it! Now I’m saying Redd, who? No, seriously it took my mind off of Red but now, damn Noel’s dick has made me fall in love with it.  I bet his name is imprinted on my walls right now.

Oh and btw, we started fucking at 11:00-something, got in the shower at about 1:30 and did not get out till 4:40 something so yes, that man fucked me all night long.

 

So, I have finally figured my damn self out. I am a slut. And only can I say this now because I know that I do not have sex just because it feels good. Sex to me is like power. At the moment. Flirting is power to me as well. It’s like I feel that all my life no one has really liked me. I mean, my family has to love me but I’ve never really been liked. Except for by men. Why? Because they want to fuck me. Because I look pretty. Because I’m different than other girls or so they say. And I have become addicted to this superficial love and attention because I can’t get it anywhere else. I am not liked. My friends all talk badly about me behind my back. I would say haters but how can the whole world be your hater? They say I’m ditzy and dumb and slow. They say I’m annoying. They say I dress slutty. I remember back in high school we found a book of horoscopes that narrowed down what a person would be like based on the day and month they were born. Mine said that I am destined to be a loner. Destined to stand out. I will never fit in, and I will never have a group of friends. I will be the person that moves from place to place with an unnatural aptitude for creative ventures. The older I grow the more convinced I become that this saying is so right. I’ve been trying to fight it off all these years but perhaps I just need to except it. I am born to be a loner. I should stop ruining myself with drugs and sex trying to fill the void of being something I don’t want to be. Fate is a powerful thing. I am giving in to it.

 

 

I probably looked crazy standing in the middle of the highway, aviator shades balancing on her nose, wearing the same jeans I’d had on since Memphis. My legs extended in separate directions, straddling the line between my two favorite states. There, I inhaled the Texas- Louisiana air as if I were virgin to it, ignoring the sting of the sun drenched gravel against my red painted toes. This, baby, was home.

With the cell phone camera, I snapped a picture of myself wild-faced, tongue in full view throwing up the devil horns.

“Hey whore!” Pink yelled from the beat up blue neon parked on the side of the road. I looked her over amusedly. Her chubby white skin was burning from the relentless sun and the tiny denim shorts she was wearing were not helping whatsoever. She rested on the hood of the car, scratching her head full of fuchsia hair for which she was named. I grinned and flipped her my middle finger, which she retaliated with an outstretched tongue. Before it went back in she fondled the rod in it with her lip, almost slurping at me. That move unnerved me every time and she did it so often as a come- hither to helpless red blooded guys eager to know what the gesture felt like on their nether regions. I decided to give the memory card a rest and sauntered towards her. In the back seat, I observed our two other friends hanging out the windows, sweating and fanning themselves vigorously. There was Juanita, who we called J.J. and Kara, my best friend and roommate. Both looked uncomfortable being in such a close vicinity of one another and I wondered if I should surrender shotgun so Kara could finally get some peace. In fact, I was about the only happy camper in our unlikely little crew. I say unlikely only because from looking at us, you’d never think we’d get along. And to a certain degree, you’d be right.

Pink was a thick, heavily southern white chick with what came off as more of a black girl’s attitude. It really was her trailer trash pedigree that gave off this air. She weighed over 200 lbs but still wasn’t afraid to show off her thick legs and “black girl’s” butt. She’d gotten the tongue ring at the end of her high school senior year and wasn’t shy about its eye brow raising purpose. J.J. had an identical piercing but was totally opposite in appearance. She was as black skinned as I could imagine anyone coming with the height of a smurf. She was just a little gangster and it was no surprise that she and Pink were two peas in a pod.

 

Baby,
oigelay
listen...

My heart is on fire,
my lungs are charred,
and the place where you touched me
on my arm
now bears a scar
I am blinded from gazing into you
for too long
you shine
of copper- some kind of dark metal
you lead me on, so unkind,
but still I unwind
like a child I follow you obliviously
disarmed by the charm that emits
from your black, endless eyes
and grinning lips
your searching fingertips
hunting while you distract me
with a smoker's kiss
a smoker's kiss
nothings better than this
sweet tobacco, weed, and strawberry mix...
My chest is still burning,
the tops of my breasts still red
as I replay your words over and over
dream up lines that were never said
like "I really like you"
but instead we just trade head
and fuck, and party
drink, and get lit
trade stories and take hits
until the energy is sucked dry
when the time wears off the high
we glide
and peck lips with half-hearted goodbyes
we feed off eachothers lies
and I sink into bed, throat throbbing, so deprived
closing my eyes
i soak my unrequited emotions
back into the unforgiving night


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writing dsr
One tear in a bucket, fuck it.
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