Off-Center

Transcription

Don’t fuck with me. I gave you my heart on a platter in a letter days old traveled over the island water till it hit your hands in a calm cool silent shock. Seething. You let me sit there. There must be a reason and an explanation to the whole mess. Pretty girl pretty enough to whistle to from 3 stories up in your paint spewed overalls but not pretty enough to fucking treat with a little respect. I don’t want to be calm. I want to rant spew scream at you because this isn’t for you – it’s for me. Purity levels have fallen in the last few years. Fuck the world. Angry. Anger management classes for what? Internalizing the embarrassment? Makes me want to mask my hopes. I missed you. It wasn’t the same. Lonely. I imagined you’d just pop up out of the woodwork and hug me from behind but it never happened. Where were you? Where were you? Just fucking do me a favor and call or something. I feel like a fool. Hopes all up, vulnerable, shields down, shell off, smile on my face. I put my lipstick on and fixed my hair nice. I skipped class to be with you. To try to hold your hand and gain some kind word if any or else at least a feeling of connectedness. Reciprocal interest. You want to go, didn’t you? God fucking damn it. Creepy old guy honking at me. Is it the sweater? The jeans? The lipstick? The hair? The walk? Leave me alone. Not what I want. What do I want? Damned if I know. Not a sleaze bumming cigs from when I don’t have any. At least you smile. At me, I don’t know. I can’t play pool….but I have a job, a car, good grades. I’m smart, I’m reliable. What did I do? Bristles are back up. Will I yell at you? Will I say anything? I missed you. I missed you. I wanted you there. I wanted you. You. I’m lost. I hate the springtime. No, I love it – when it works. Pound my fists/lips into you. Hate you with all the lust I can muster. You are not responsible for my anticipation. I can’t put that on you. I hate not knowing things. It’s the worst feeling. I hate being behind. It’s the leo in me, the roar. I’ve got teeth, you know. I bared them once, years ago, it wasn’t a pretty sight. But I bared them at myself back then. I’m not sure I could ever growl as seriously at anyone besides myself. I was so excited. I got up on time. I slapped a grin on my face. I couldn’t wait to be alone with you in my comfort zone: art. Aghghghkdlkkghsllsjkghlkkljf; lkjdasfasdasghklj; flipoturas; flkjasdfklj-aghhghghghgaghghgj; klhsiprgh. Fuck: a good word. – Feb 28 1998