triangle schemes on my part only.
2005-06-04 12:34 p.m.
lately, he has a habit of giving his most endearing looks while he is telling me i'm crazy. and i nod and smile in agreement. of course. of course.but he calls me at three in the morning, at two fifteen he shows up at the door of my apartment, and i let him speak as i fall asleep. mistake
number one
he calls to ask if he can stay the night, and i say no. bitch. cold heart says no. tomorrow's headline on the down low. online, we speak as though we're spies.
glimpse.
glimpse.
i have let too many men inside of me, and i spend the late night trying to speed them out, purifying my body with fasting, which is repentance in its birthright, but fails to satisfy.
i ride an hour to weary my bones, to weary my heart, to heavy my head. i should not have gone so easily to those other arms and their friendly embraces. mistake
number two.
this is non-sequential.
fly off the handle to create an invitation, to manufacture chaos. am i still doing this? who can stop me? my invicible emotions, my age old bones are waiting, in conflict with one another.
i do not know what has become of my desire for peace. it is difficult to imagine now.
i try
writing each word out down to the letter, down to the pause, down to the pulse, but there is nothing to suffice. mistake
three times
your master for your own face, and deny
that you have known me.
you would be right.