So what? We weren't ever going to fall in love.

Not you and I.

Two drugs that you couldn't take together.

Never worth it,

in the end,

to be that one thing,

that one thing no one ever thought would really exist.

Maybe we aren't anything,

especially if at the end, we all die.

12/11/09

I didn't want things to end. If I'm fucking you, no one else is, it was set in stone, this was my one rule.

You laid it down for me to break, and I did within 3 hours.

All I wanted was to piss you off at this point.

You weren't as infallible as the pope, but you were as hard-headed.

We didn't get along.

We had never really gotten along, but we fought more

Now that you knew I was going to leave you

Dead or alive.

You'd put me down

Pick me up

And then throw me around

I can't even tell you,

half the things I always thought I'd be able to,

Just because

I had to pretend I loved you

Because, well

Because

I thought you needed me more

Than I needed to be alone.

You weren't anything like I needed,

Unless I needed a charity case

No one needs charity cases,

Maybe I'm crazy though.

You can never tell, when you can't remember.

12/12/09

I can't remember enough

enough to know if I'm sane,

enough to know if I'm not,

I'm just barely floating through, and I don't get it

because

I was so young when all of this hit me,

I was a child,

when the first

first

first

well,

when it all started.

Whenever it started.

Probably around the time I learned to cope with death

and loss

and prison.

There's nothing like it.

Forgetting

pretending

all of it is such a breath of fresh air.

12/18/09

I hate coming home to this.

Coming home was like killing my new puppy, every day.

A new sketch book,

New paints,

New gauges,

All mean nothing when I get to that one place

I'd rather die than live.

The raven says he loathes my company.

I drink,

I lie,

I overdose,

I wonder how much of it is in my head,

He says the best drug he'll ever get me is paint thinner and a paper bag.

I say give me something that will make me hate you.

He says fuck you.

I say up yours.

I watch fear and loathing.

I pick up a pencil.

I draw.

I think about tearing my fingernails off.

I fall over from a cramp.

I put smaller gauges in and lay down.

I type everything I can remember.

12/19/09

I wake up with a hangover,

noon,

oh the irony,

I sleep again.

At six I go to a party,

I enjoy myself

Of all the things ravens will never know.

The writing desk says 

he's never thought about me as a girlfriend,

I say only the ones with too much morality do.

He says its not that I'm not datable,

I say it's not a big deal.

No one looks at me like any more than a piece of ass.

I couldn't stop thinking about how he kissed me.

I would have said come over,

come finish me off like you wanted.

Let's go on a hike, you said,

We'll take a condom just in case.

I wanted you.

You wanted me.

What's that on your lips, you asked

Dr. Pepper Chap-stick.

Nice, you said.

This was our goodbye.

I didn't want you to forget.

I went home,

I've never been touched like that.

I told you.

I forget.

Don't leave her,

Don't gain morals.

12/20/09

I wasn't you,

I wasn't even myself,

I was just a girl trying to get her kicks,

and I was finding them in all the wrong places,

this room,

that bed,

the couch,

it wasn't something people wanted to know,

it was hard for me,

to get by without being touched,

that's why there is two of them.

A raven is like a writing desk because both steal souls,

both inspire obsessions.

Both make people into zombies.

We're all of us haunted and haunting.

 Always lurking around corners.

12/23/09

My memory is failing me,

My imagination taking hold

Reality seems never there,

And displeasing.

I never liked being alone

When it gets cold.

Luckily winters in the south weren't ever

Well,

They weren't too bad.

Sometimes I had to walk around at night,

to remember what it felt like

Warm and held tight,

The pity I'd get for blue lips

Reminded me

Made the memories fresh.

Not faded,

Like they so often were.

I had the raven,

I had the writing desk,

I missed . . . .

I missed....

The one that felt like warm

Warm sand

And his name was short,

Short like two claps

Or maybe three,

And he sounded

Like a knight in shining armor

To a broken lady, with no home.

Never has he touched me.

Never been close at all.

But still, he is like, he was like..

I don't know.

There's someone inside my brain pulling on my nerves.

Someone playing with things they shouldn't be.

That is a day to me.

6 hours of forgetting,

4 hours of catatonia,

and two hours of you,

whoever you are.

There are worse things than falling in the shower,

There are worse things than forgetting who you are,

The worst things in life don't make sounds,

I don't make sounds.

You said you were worried about my health.

I lied and said I was fine,

you didn't know,

you never knew so much.

I confessed an addiction,

to replace an addiction,

to replace an addiction,

and then you were speechless.

Marvelous, Malevolent and cynical, me.

Trusting, Honest and true, you.

There are three of me in here,

three of you out there.

And I'm still falling in the shower.

Drinking in the dark,

crying alone, and keeping myself, to myself.