Tangents

Really, I do.

I don't want to sit still. I want to walk right up. Hi, nice to meet you. I like your handshake - a firm solid grip of reassurance and promise. Do you remember me? Once upon a time I knew you. Cool, charming, suave. You caught their hearts like leaping fish, gasping and twisting in that same solid grip. And really, it's been so long since we've talked this, hasn't it? I want to ask you how you're doing, but the words seem to be lost somewhere in translation. It's always been like this though, hasn't it? These one-sided conversations? But I swear, I never meant to chain you down here, to tie you down to a memory you couldn't keep. I let her take you away, because I didn't want to fight. You belonged with the rest of them. I don't want to remember anymore. I don't want to remember how you shot that smile of porcelain bullets at my plate-armored heart. I just want to forget about you.

Really I do.

Extrovert

your silhouette smolders under the burning skies
glass heart on a chain, that look in your eyes
how hard it must be to keep emotion in check
with that pulsing crystal strung around your neck

if there was anything i could change about myself, i'd be an extrovert. it would be so easy to draw energy off a crowd, instead of waiting to be invited all the time. like a stupid toddler asking for permission to stay up late.

it's so funny. i'm always drawn to the smart-mouthed confident heroines in stories simply because i am nothing like them. instead of letting cars drive by and splash puddles into my face, i'd break their windows with rocks. i'd stop letting those people walk right over me, i'd make them to do the fucking work they loaded onto me.

it would be so easy.