Always, unfinished.

Silence:
Creeping softly up my legs,
wrapping it's snake-like body around my hips-
the hips that bore my deceased children.
Silence, sliding up my spine and across my breasts,
making me feel young again.
Silence, curls around my neck and tightens it's unforgiving grip.
In a brief moment of pain I shout his name
and I fall to the ground.
-Entry 1

Midnight Recipe:
She jumps the stars of infinite with ease,
chasing her death for the fear of boredom.
Afraid to light the room.
-Ugh

Like Praying.

Charlotte held a flask of spirits with both of her hands, cupping it like something sacred. John's face produced a smile seeing his friend like this, she looks like she's praying when she drinks, he thought. She let out a long sigh as she crawled into a crouch on the large rock they sat on. Her hair spilled in curls around her face. John turned his gaze towards the water.
"Fay got married yesterday." She looked up at John through her curtain of hair.
John didn't flinch nor give any indication that he heard. He continued to gaze ahead, into the roaring river, still leaning on one elbow for support.
"Hpmh, she married that traveling salesman. Said he was her chariot, or something." Charlotte blinked and began to trace her right pinkie finger around the tip of the flask.
"Good," he said, finally, softly, not breaking his gaze, "she made this town stink like something rotten."
Charlotte raised the flask with one hand, "cheers John, you bastard."
She threw the flask back and the liquid began to spill into her mouth, her lips moistened around the opening, heavy gulps followed, sliding down her throat. She lowered the flask and held it with both hands, again, like praying. Her head fell back, her hair parted, her throat exposed; she sighed with satisfaction as the spirits penetrated her stomach.
John smiled and patted the empty space next to him.
"Amen," she whispered as she crawled next to John, tucking her face in his shoulder where she grinned the happiest of grins.

"Sorry," I said, "take me to the next one."

See that man laying face down in the road?
"I shot him down with a cold, broken stone."
"I bet that hurt like hell," you said.
"Who knows," I shrug and release a sigh.

We start to dance, my lover and I, his hand cups my waist and my hand covers my eyes.
"This doesn't exist I'm living a lie!"
His hand grows brittle and scrapes against my skin. His eyes lose focus and cast up towards the sky. His mouth sags open silently moaning his pain and regret.
Bit by bit my lover falls apart, while in motion- still dancing, and soon he collides with the ground.

I continue my dance by myself, calling out to my ruined lover with a mournful sound.

Thief

I
stole
this
smile
off
of a
blind
man,
who was
basking
in the sun,
appreciating
the warmth
on his
face,
for
once.

Jane 2

The sound of grunge rock wafted through the air and into Jane's ears from across the street. She cast her eyes up to look at the dingy bar, with it's group of rugged, dirty, angst-ridden kids littering the entrance, smoking their lives short without guilt. Within a second she's walking across the street and into the hole-in-the-wall bar that calls her name, silently in the smokey night.

I'm sipping on my IPA when this little doll pushes through the door and steps into the bar. She's got this mess of long, black hair covering her shoulders with bangs hanging over half of her face. She has this short, black cotton dress on. It's loose but thin so she leaves little to the imagination when the wind blows. She's wearing a pair of red cowboy boots that cut off at her ankles and she's carrying what looks like a black cat, sideways. She hesitates at the door as she takes in the room and the people. She puts her hand to her bangs and lifts them up for a better view. Instantly, I fall for her and that gesture. I watch as she licks her lips and starts walking to the bartender. Turns out the cat she's carrying is a bag, curious enough, she plops it on the counter and unzips it's side to pull some money out. The ragged thing looks a mess as it's matted fake fur starts to collect the puddles of beer from the counter.

I keep my eyes on her as she mouths her order to the bartender, kisses the bill she's holding, and slaps it into his hand. He laughs as a reaction and turns quickly to make her drink. She leans on the counter and shifts her body to face the room. Her eyes instantly connect with mine and my face must have betrayed me by showing my stunned reaction. She laughs and continues to scan the room with a flush of color in her cheeks. Fucking idiot, I think to myself.

Jane

Character Study, for my fiction:

I looked for love in all the wrong places; I looked in Sam's trousers. He had a small, fleeting love that lasted only two minutes. Exhausted, he rolled off of me and laid on his side, back facing me, the rest of the night in a soundless sleep.

Restlessness taking hold of me I got up, ran his dirty tee shirt between my legs and dressed my slim, pale body. I approached the grime crusted mirror in the bathroom, took out my lipstick, smeared a thin coat over my lips, puckered and rubbed them together, and wrote "learn to fuck" in large and sloppy letters across the mirror.

Purposely leaving the door open, I walked out of his excuse for an apartment and into the ten 'o clock night.

The heat from the day still lingered into the night. The clonking of my boots echoed off of the cars parked along the streets and off of the trees lining the sidewalk. Feeling invisible and fully alive I started walking into the heart of the city.

Incarnation of Apathy

SHE saunters over to me with a devilish smile,
with cat-like claws -tap-tap-tapping that lovely dress of hers -to a beat unknown to me.
I stand there to admire her figure swaying back and forth, inching nearer.
The sense of desire bubbles in my veins as my eyes take in all of her beauty.
She comes to a halt in front of me and I'm hit with a cloud of tranquil fragrances
-Patchouli, Lavender, Sandalwood, Vanilla, Citrus, Jasmine, Moss..
I close my eyes, entranced and seduced, as she strings her fingers through my hair. I let out a sigh of relief and intoxication. "I'm yours," I moan.
Our eyes meet, inches away from each other, and I feel a stab through my heart. I choke on my last breath as her facade starts to melt. Her beauty cracks and shatters to the ground like a fragile mirror. Her hair shrivels from silky, golden locks to a brittle gray mess. Her skin begins to sag and wrinkle as if one hundred years suddenly became a burden. I try to run but I'm bound to her.
She throws her head back and cackles manically into the blackening sky.
"I always get what I want," she hisses and spits.
I slump to the ground and look up at my new master, Depression.. Don't fall for her.