22 pages to write and I'm done!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tonight was wonderful.
I'm making myself scarce and that is very well.
My new psychologist is a cab driver named Lavender.
Goodnight.

Ef this.

I just got into Short Fiction Writing by either: A- submitting a writing sample, or B- covering my lottery questionaire with lipstick kisses.

You slip inside me

Beneath my skin.

I see you in me. In all that I do.

So you and I head, wrist to wrist

To our sacred room-

Bottle caps and bruises, beer cans and my camisole

And smoke trailed from your dying cigarette (I love to hate your habits).

You'll press lips against my forehead, slight sucking sound.

You'll drive me home. You'll drop me ( Read more... )

    My mom is away for the week. She left me money. To purchase food. So...I bought a guinea pig. He is cool. He looks a bit like a cow, but cooler. His name is Bos (Latin for cow), and he is going to be my friend. He has to be my friend since I bought him, basically paying his parents for his friendship. That's a bit creepy. However, I do not ( Read more... )

     So John dropped me off early last night...we were both pretty tired.My parents weren't home. I went to the door (which my mom had promised to leave unlocked so I didn't have my keys.) Neither I nor John thought for him to walk me to the door. It was locked. I called my mom, she said to try the windows. The windows were locked. I had, by this ( Read more... )

I lean back in your car; the engine is stalled.
The smoke from the butt of my cigarette clogs the passing headlights.
Like your arteries; I told you smoking was bad.
I want you to hold me.
I've wasted lost hair ties and water towers not being yours
as you are mine. (You never liked my hair up)
So press your lips to my forehead. Hard.

   Bright Eyes concert was good. Tilly and the Wall was cool as well, they had a girl tap-dancing on stage who I could have watched all night. Coco Rosie was kinda cool...except for the whole unicorn/bestiality theme. It was nice to hang out with John. Afterward I tested John's new electric blanket. Twas nice.

I'm sick and there's a bluebird ( Read more... )

Snickers died last night, in my arms. They think she had a heart attack or stroke. She was choking; her tiny pink tongue was out. I loved her so much. Her head was cold when I kissed her goodbye.