drained, steadily draining. raining outside. raining outside. raining outside.

drained, steadily draining. raining outside. raining outside. braining outside

brainwashed by water trickling out of my ears

I'm gonna cut them off with shears.

sheer measure of pleasure absent from life

edge of a knife

ready to brain


brainlessly mingling with
lip-tingling would be
wordlikely letters
unlistenedly
lost.

less erotic and more grotesque, this, always doing the wrong thing (or feeling or...)

tiring out, mistakes and caring way too much.

don't I have a life? you tell me.

or better, don't. I guess I need to figure it out.

(does it show I'm crap at accepting help at times? especially when I feel guilty [oooooh-guilty! sing it with me!])

[damn, this blog is private as privates. As private as privacy can go and still be private within words. and not a tabloid. so. getting back to literature soon, I assure you, reader - it's probably not funny, when you don't know the characters involved.....]

He was there. My bestest friend ever.

Smooching. Smoothed over with touch and laughter. Safe, safely embraced. Him - always there, always responsive, never taking too much. All playful and calm.

He was there. My bestest friend ever. Wonderfully - not enough.

finally (aren't we all) morphing
into oblivion? finally
(aren't we all) ready to
redefine?
reevaluation is the
word sponsored for right
here-now, (aren't we all) ready to
return to politeness of strangers, to
reunite with indifference?

(aren't we all) ready to forget? but
all the same, I will remember the
achiness of (lack of) touch, only highlighted
by the strangeness, rareness, being only
made by not being. (aren't we all) possibly
forgetting something?


2. strange tune, the one we're dancing to.
strange melody, and voice.
the leading strings of quartet which
appoints the movements of the joints.
strange tune, the one we're dancing to.
not likely to avoid
the void, one left by skipping by
the world torn into cleft.


3. can you be a melody? can I be a voice?
I'd love to sing, the lingo - new,
and fresh - all juice and novel
experiences, phrases newly formed and yet
at the same time -
understandable, unexpendable, impossible to forge -
let's dream the dream, even if
the taste of you on my tongue
only in words, it seems, can be
something else than
hopelessly cliche

or maybe it's the words
who trick me, trip me, fool me yet
again.

we're both restless. Can't give
each other any shelter.
We're both tired. Can't give each
other energy or calm.
or maybe we can. the restless feel
of hands held forcibly still.
the impossibly wonderful zing of
accidental touches.
hopelessly impossible to give
things to one another.
but I still want to. can't give it
up. can't give you up.
touch me, I'm sick. only ill for
you. for not-wanting you.

lost in translation

what about wanting to want? just to prove your own normalcy? what about need to prove it?

what about sitting, all cooped inside, and waiting for motivation to strike? what about missing non-existent touch? what about this quiet craziness, lurking?

what about out of body experiences like reading and living through the pages? all very useful, but what about coming down from that high? what about writing and notwriting? what about re-creating yourself through the touch of keypads?

what about me?

krzyk zamknięty w gardle, bo

tłok i tłum i szok i szum i nieraz stała na jednej nodze w tramwaju, a jednak to pierwszy raz, gdy palce odnajdują krocze. Palce przynależą do twarzy starannie odwróconej, skroni przyprószonych siwizną. Milcząc, podnosi siatkę z zakupami, chroniąc miękki brzuch. Truskawki krwawią w objęciach papierowej torby, coraz mocniej poddane naciskowi.

scream strangled inside her throat, 'cause

crowd and crush and loud and rush and she has, several times, stood on one leg inside a tram, but it's still a first time occurence, fingers travelling to crotch. Fingers belong to a face firmly turned away, temples peppered with grey. Silent, she pulls up a grocery bag, protecting the soft underbelly. Strawberries bleed within the paper bag, the pressure harder still.