Log in

No account? Create an account

divorced's Journal


14th November 2002

8:35am: Just open your eyes and breathe
Just the thought of the contact makes her so nervous so she could vomit.
She cannot breathe.
She cannot feel her hands.
So cold. They are always cold.
Except when they are in his.
His hands are so beautiful and soft…warm.
She misses his hands.
When he is away, and they speak…She thinks of them.
So beautiful…she cried…so beautiful.
She cannot imagine a world without those hands.
It is strange I suppose.
But they fit.
Like a glove…they wrap around and comfort.
It’s rush of love and heat that takes over.
She cannot breathe.
The thought of contact is killing her.
Other hands in his hands: death.
Her hands.
Just the thought…someone else’s voice wrapped in his mind.
She cannot breathe.
She cannot breathe.
She cries when she sleeps but it is worse when she wakes.

The only way to tell you…
If you tell him how I feel, I will never talk to you again.
That is no joke.
9:44am: click click click went the pen...upon the wood...on your teeth
I bit my nail.
I do not bite my nails.
Watch out.
She's a comin' round the house now.
The screen door slams
the woman screams.
Oh Julius,
don't get the woman up.
Bake my pie
slam it in his face.
10:05am: oh har---Anne Sexton
our hands are light blue and gentle.
our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
but when we marry,
the children leave in disgust.
There is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance.
10:21am: The people at my school smell like cats and fish.
Maybe it is just the school itself.
Either way, I must plan my escape.
Powered by LiveJournal.com