Peering out the window from the third floor in a building, standing
...on a corner, in a town, middle of New Jersey, right side of the country,
left side
...........................................................of the world
Should I grow up and continue to wear makeup at 30, 40, 50 years younger
...than my mother at my age?
Should I rip into another century and seem terribly out of place, implying
this
...was my time to fall into the peg board, so this is my time
........................................................and place?
Should I continue to continue and nothing more? Should I continue to pass
by,
...............................................fall to the floor when left
alone?
Should I continue to grow upright, settle down, as though now I am high,
...unsettled, scattered in each direction and my husband or wife will come,
collect
.......the pieces, and with a ring and a kiss complete me so I may never
question
............or doubt again?
...................................Lover, that may be a difficult job.
Should I tell him he has ketchup on his face?
....Have I ever been in love?
Should I lie to my parents just
........................................one more time?
Why am I here with a cock in one hand, joint in the other?
....Will this decision affect my life?
Do I have anything different to say?
....Should I hit that again?
Am I on my way to hell?
....Who would I kick out of bed, Mulder or Scully?
Is it me, or is everyone else not me?
....Will he EVER see me? Should I make it easier and take off my shirt?!
Do you really have to "love yourself" before you can love anyone else? If
that's true
....then why don't I have a love? I've already loved myself three times this
week.
Is consumerism our new organized religion?
....Is everyone this twisted at my age?
Should I ignore the national guilt?
....Am I doing "what needs to be done?" Do I even know what that is?
Should I continue to miss him so much that I can't even enjoy
....................................................my frosted flakes?
Will he ever call me back? I-I-I just wanna fuck with his hair and maybe the
....curve of his back...... but I can't have him. No, I CAN'T HAVE HIM.
Were you scared Ryan? Were you terrified that moment before?
....Did you see your whole life, all the times you made me laugh? Were they
........all there? You must've been scared.
I am sick of being alone, of silence, of vodka, of 6:00am, of midnight slice
sessions, of having to tell myself "it's their loss," of addiction, of
wishing I was a beat, of insomnia, of TBS dinner and a fucking
movie, I am so goddamn sick of "we need to talk," of competitive girl
hate and jealousy, of "how'd you get those
........scars?", of broken necklaces, broken promises, emptiness, of your
............absence, of forgetting you're gone...... and then remembering.
Sick of missing you,
....loving you,
........hating you,
all in the same wicked breath.....
....................................of being a coward