Thursday, April 30, 2009

Abstract nothingness.


White is my favorite color..if it is a color that is,
Recovery is every other day in this hell I call my own.

I fluctuate from sweet lolita to aggravated woman..
depending on how he makes me feel.

a dungeon, a prison
some nights i feel beautiful in my own vulnerability
those nights,allowing him to press against me
letting him put me to rest
laying me down upon sheets he calls his own

its your game,its your sword
i take the roll of a doll in masters pity

he says jump,
and shes in the air

the invisible exit, an impossible candyland
i snap when im hurt
quickly covering my wound with sand bits and tampered leaves
damp and soiled from the rain night before and this mornings dew
destroyed spiderwebs and ripped nylon
fast,before he gets here!
now,before he smells my weakness.


It all floods within me.. sudden realization..
hits me in the head like a brick,
scrapes against my cheek,I lose blood and chunks of skin

welcome ur strength!
farewell to little girl panties and baby feelings
that break with every forgotten I love you or missed phone call
no more will u slam me against walls and take control

I am,in my own body



Ive grown a bra size
no more,
will I be your little girl
at least not until alice eats the other side of the mushroom
and falls back on your lap

he says to poison
and i can feel her sickness flowing through my veins..

his call,
her cooperation.

shaking from the smell of real cheese
only plastic cakes and clay pizza please the tip of my hesitant tongue
ive battered my own appetite

what can i say?
who else was going to do it?

i had to take the job for a bit,while he was off duty.

The story of Ana.

The story of ana and her master

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