post green beer blues
Emma noticed that there was a bright, white, burning heat in her heart this morning. Yellow fin tuna thrashing on the line, glossy blue sea sheen, a heart caught and flailing, dying eye wildly searching a fixed point.
girl, take a deep breath
can't, apartment too smoky
You know when your brain is too full of words and they are so compounded that they have melded into a great, big sticky mess of syllables and unfinished, unvarnished thoughts.
I had thought that I might write a bit on how it is that I find myself so very lonely today. I thought I might wax poetic, thought I might string my words like pearls, thought I might wreath myself in a shamrock garland. Insulate myself against the loneliness with all of my pretty, pretty words. Fend it off with my shield of snark, lance it with my self deprecation, club it with my metaphorical indifference.
Still it comes on in stealth, whispering nothing sweet to the nape of my neck, takes me in it's ghostly arms and plies me to sleep, troubling my dreams, haunting my face in the mirror, slipping a bony hand around my warm heart, troubling my wardrobe and rattling my thoughts.
get thee from me, thou devil, my loneliness
hovering round my head, covering my empty bed
you make my heart ache, so
you tell me, while I am standing with my two dearest friends, celebrating their tenth anniversary, you tell me this shall not be yours, this you shall not have.
you tell me, when the most stoic of frenchmen pays me the highest compliment, you whisper in my ear - always admired and never loved, and this ache ricochets through my body like a fucking berserk pin ball. S has M, they go home together, I offer to drop them in the cab.
On the last day of the heat wave in San Francisco, it is St. Patrick's day. Emma is in a cab with the windows down. Star jasmine in rampant bloom has permeated the liquid blue of the evening. All is nascent save my heart. Emma is reeling, the cab, the city lights, the velocity of the breeze carries her homeward to her bed, where later she will dream of brightly colored fish in the deep, blue sea.
Emma noticed that there was a bright, white, burning heat in her heart this morning. Yellow fin tuna thrashing on the line, glossy blue sea sheen, a heart caught and flailing, dying eye wildly searching a fixed point.
girl, take a deep breath
can't, apartment too smoky
You know when your brain is too full of words and they are so compounded that they have melded into a great, big sticky mess of syllables and unfinished, unvarnished thoughts.
I had thought that I might write a bit on how it is that I find myself so very lonely today. I thought I might wax poetic, thought I might string my words like pearls, thought I might wreath myself in a shamrock garland. Insulate myself against the loneliness with all of my pretty, pretty words. Fend it off with my shield of snark, lance it with my self deprecation, club it with my metaphorical indifference.
Still it comes on in stealth, whispering nothing sweet to the nape of my neck, takes me in it's ghostly arms and plies me to sleep, troubling my dreams, haunting my face in the mirror, slipping a bony hand around my warm heart, troubling my wardrobe and rattling my thoughts.
get thee from me, thou devil, my loneliness
hovering round my head, covering my empty bed
you make my heart ache, so
you tell me, while I am standing with my two dearest friends, celebrating their tenth anniversary, you tell me this shall not be yours, this you shall not have.
you tell me, when the most stoic of frenchmen pays me the highest compliment, you whisper in my ear - always admired and never loved, and this ache ricochets through my body like a fucking berserk pin ball. S has M, they go home together, I offer to drop them in the cab.
On the last day of the heat wave in San Francisco, it is St. Patrick's day. Emma is in a cab with the windows down. Star jasmine in rampant bloom has permeated the liquid blue of the evening. All is nascent save my heart. Emma is reeling, the cab, the city lights, the velocity of the breeze carries her homeward to her bed, where later she will dream of brightly colored fish in the deep, blue sea.
posted by emma at
9:58 PM
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