little things tear at me. devour me.
theres nothing easy about going through days as this. reading too much into movements and words. reaching. if you will. upward and away from the dark spots below. away from the stagnant and pale. this last week has been the most confusing of this year. twisting and butterflies and this new and fleeting emotion i thought was once dead. passion? is that you? too bad. your coming in a weird time. stephanie meets boy, stephanie goes to work, stephanie hears voice she hasnt heard in years and years, stephanie comes to realization. not all of this feels good. but most of it does. delicious and frightening.
the boy. quick breaths and arms locked. being kissed like that hurts. i fell. weak. gave too much. and now its no ones fault but mine that im just a girl again. if anything, a goodbye fuck. weak weak weak weak. i go back to the blogs i wrote before. i always fall for boys the hardest when they are the most impossible to attain. when they are too busy or too intense or too much or ... leaving. maybe its a stigma with me. i just like the rush. maybe im trying to prove i can make them stay. most times they dont and im left breathless and wandering. well see. theres still time for me. i shouldnt care so much about them.
work comes in short bursts. time flies and im reeling at the end of the day, coffee grounds cling to my fingers and the customers names are slurring together. they ask me if everything is ok, but im all smiles and head shaking when im there. makeup and eyelashes flashing. intimidating and strong. the perfect shade of yes sir. maybe. then im in the elevator going up one floor and im sagging against the wall and praying for the strength to straighten and walk out. back into it. these new people are strange. they invite me out and talk and laugh and i take them in and we romp. i like the poeple i work with. sometimes.
the duplex is terrifying and usually too warm. i pace and listen to the music people give me. painting saves me. my cigarettes save me. but not always. i put my fists through my bedroom window the other day. im too dramatic maybe.
[dogs barking and killing each other and i just want the noise to stop]
i dont know how i feel right now! actually its kind of mixed. i feel twitchy and scared and at the same time brave and standalone.
what is coming? who knows! in and out and me at the wheel. drunk and heavy with thought.
i cant write anymore.
ive lost it.