(no subject)

Dec 18, 2005 20:29

She senses that I have allowed my weakness to yet again prevail. She takes that as a signal to slam me repeatedly into the ground (at her feet) with a sledgehammer. She Knows I Am Nothing In Her Absence. I think, inside my head, my faithlessness forms itself into her shape and her shape assumes all responsibility. And my own shape then disintegrates. To her, I am probably a barely-human. sledgehammer. I am the worst kind of child. At least I'm not on drugs. I am agreeable. I am finicky. Bad bad bad, I am a whiny bitch. But I am really bony. Yay. I have something I could lose in an instant. I have something that doesn't matter. I have something to live and die for. I made it so.

While I hide things in notebooks that lose more meaning the deeper I bury them in their designated piles. While the other She speaks wistfully of things yet unformed (future) and shapes them with cookie cutters and sparkly icing and my eyes dull as they sweep over her words. I could swear I only care about cartoon characters. The other day I was watching a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Jerry ends up frozen in the snow. Oh this frozen helpless wee scamp. Tom takes him and defrosts him before the fireplace. Oh the heart-stabbing sight of a tiny frozen animated creature, rotating blue iciness, eyes snowflake-sewn shut, like a pot roast before the lick of flames. I tell you. I wept.
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