"Admit you like her and go for it. Maybe you get somewhere with her, or maybe you get rejected. Either way, you get something."
It took me a long time to wriggle free from the under side of your fist.
A couple years ago, in order to handle the sadness in my life, I took a few steps back career-wise and chose a job at the book store. It was chosen because it would kill time and keep my mind off things, but who did I meet in the training for this job? My sweetest friend Katie. I don’t know where I would be if I had never become close with that girl. I might have chosen that job for one cathartic reason, but I believe the cat gods stepped in and handed me Katie instead.
We healed together and grew up there. And now we are on to better things. I’m proud of us and proud of you my little soul mate!
I have exhausted all my options trying to get hot, lesbian girls to want me. It’s time to face facts: it’s not going to happen, Alexis.
I won’t lose my head. I won’t lose my head. I won’t lose my head.
Everything will be alright in the end. So if it’s not alright, it’s not yet the end.
Currently working on asking for what I want and accepting nice gestures without questioning the reasons why. This is alright.
No, I didn’t scream his name, but he screamed mine. I did bite his lip and it didn’t feel right.
The pain was there. You could almost reach out and grab it. I told him I was broken. My hips still worked though. He moved them just so he could feel the pain rattling around.
And you were there too, in the back of my mind. All four of us, a disfigured monster.
He did not have coke on his nose, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have done it anyway. Would have made it even easier.
It was never in good fun for me. I was drowning and he pulled me above water. If only for a moment. I wanted you out of my fucking mind just for a second.
You were a semi-truck, far overshadowing my tiny frame. We crashed head on. I walked away, but barely. I awoke some months later still feeling the pain. I’m still learning how to walk again, and my skin is growing thicker. My bones continue to heal and my muscles grow. Still. Whenever I hear the muffled roar of another truck…a curve in the road…that song that was playing, I relive it all. My breathing goes shallow, my seams open up, my bones break again. Trauma.
There is a silver lining. With each crash I re-live, my tiny frame grows a bit stronger, a bit thicker, a bit larger.
We took what we had and we ripped it apart. Only way I know how to do it.