Expo

Expo
Note: Free write.

I watched the deep plum on her fingernails float over my skin. Her fingertips were warm and my body gravitated toward them. I saw her look up at me with hungry eyes and I pulled her face to mine. She wanted me more than ever before, but she wasn’t mine so I pulled away. She sighed and placed her hand on my chest, but really more on my breast.
It was unbearable to feel her breath on my chest as I watched her look at nothing and think about everything. Had we gotten this far only to go back to square one? Her fingers made a soft circling motion over a small beauty mark on my left breast. She knew what she was doing. She laid us down here for a reason and her reasons were not pure.
She had freckles sprinkled over her small nose and her eye lashes spread out far away from her eyes and then away from each other forming a perfect curl. I saw her lips part so I placed my hand on her face before she could talk and began to slowly pull her hair off of her face.
“I wish you knew how much I want this as bad as you do, possibly more than you. More than you can imagine.” I didn’t look at her when I spoke.
“Then why don’t you jump for once?” She said, not changing any movements.
I could still feel the soft air that left her nose on my chest. She was still making soft circular motions with her fingertips. But my heart stopped for a single moment after she said that. It stopped because I didn’t know why I wouldn’t jump. It’s not that anything could have physically stopped me at the moment. I could have taken her offer right then and indulged in every inch of her body. I could have let her soothing fingertips touch me in places I had always longed for her to touch. I could have let her full lips kiss every inch of me as her cat eyes would stare up at me with intensity. I wanted it to be that way so bad. I only knew that I couldn’t because I was his. By being there, I was already doing too much.

So this is the beginning of a wonderful and possibly tragic thing.

Note: This is a recycled post from August 2nd, 2009.

How do I begin? I’m going to start writing stories. In these stories I will talk about experiences and life, real or fictional? Only I’ll know. I have so many ideas right now so this may turn out to be something great.

We sat on his couch now, him with his head on my lap. We had just had an intense tournament on Street Fighter 4. I was trying to watch the movie on his enormous tv screen he had bragged so much about. I didn’t care about his tv or his parties or his dream of being this big time person with something to do with cars. He interested me very little on a whole. There was a time when I spent every night talking to him on the phone. We laughed and watched ridiculous tv shows together and now I find myself dreading the thought of even a text or im from him. We have nothing in common besides liking eachother’s attention for the moment.

He said little comments here and there and would stick his finger up my nose. I found that weird and cute, it was something I had gotten use to from another person. He looked up at me too much. He looked at me too much, I hated it. It made me nervous and it made me feel like I wanted to leave. I wanted to check my phone, due to my obsessive compulsive disorder that only pretains to socializing devices. I knew better than to check my phone here because the last time I was here he fried it to make me stop looking at it. At that time I had a reason to look, now it was out of pure habit. He put his arms around me leaning his head onto my not-so-there breasts. He was trying hard not to put too much pressure though. Then he looked up at me, his lips close to mine. I knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t giving it to him. So he took it upon himself to climb on top of me. He pretended to wrestle with me and hit me with couch pillows now. Then he held me tight, “You’re not going to get out of this.” I wasn’t going to try. He came close, I could feel the air from his nose on my face and I turned my head. I didn’t want to kiss him. He placed his lips on mine and grasped mine within his as I lay there without making any movements. I looked up at the ceiling with this ‘Are you really doing this?’ face. There’s something that guys like to do, it’s called making girls kiss them when they really don’t want to. Every guy I’ve encountered that is remotely interested in me has attempted to make me kiss him one way or another.

“I’m not going to kiss you back,” I pulled my lips away from his and faced the tv.

“Why not?” He turned my face to him, still on top of me. He placed his lips on mine again making little smacking noises on my dead lips. ‘He’s not going to stop until I do this,’ I turned away. We continued on like that for about 5 minutes before I allowed myself to give in to this task. I was getting tired of him being on top of me. I parted my lips and grasped his back, I looked at his eyes and they were closed. Funny how I have never failed to relate closing eyes with feelings, but he didn’t feel for me. He had no interest other than to slip my panties off with his teeth. I thought back to the time he brought me to one of the most romantic looking places I had ever been to. It was a warm and humid night with a bit of rain, you could see the the lights of Manhatten gleaming through the fog. I watched the still water and thought about how my hair must look after being exposed to all of the moisture. We stood there under my Coach umbrella and he talked entirely too much. I wanted to stand there alone and feel the wet wind on my face. He wanted to tell me about the nights he couldn’t remember and brag about his life.

He squeezed me and kissed me as if any of this had any meaning. I kissed him back knowing that this would mean nothing at all to either one of us. There was a time when he kissed me and afterwards I wouldn’t be able to feel my lips. He would kiss me and I’d see stars, but now he meant nothing. He held my hands and if this had been a meaningful kiss I might have held his face, but it wasn’t. Then after he felt he had buttered me up enough, he slowly made his way down to my belly button. He has a thing for belly buttons, I remember when he played with it before I even had the ring in it. “This is new,” he laughed when he saw it gleaming at him. Then he grabbed it with his teeth and played with it with his tongue. I covered it with my hands, I love how that feels, but I didn’t want him to do it. He pushed my hands away a million times before he made his way down to undoing my button… with his teeth. I wouldn’t let him, I covered myself. I pushed him off and he didn’t budge. This was one of those times where I wished I was extremely strong. I remembered our encounter, I remembered when we had sex that one time. It wasn’t good, in fact, I laughed. I didn’t want to have sex with him again. He kissed my thighs slowly and gently. It was too bad that I didn’t like that although some girls might have. I pushed him off more and more, but he continued down. He placed his mouth on my hands which were over my vagina which was covered by shorts and underwear. ‘I don’t want this,’ I looked at the tv wishing he would stop. He held my hands down and placed his mouth over my shorts, I could feel the warm of his saliva and I didn’t want to. He bit me softly over them and I didn’t want him to.

He wouldn’t give up. “Stop,” I laughed. I didn’t want to seem like a prude, but it was way too soon and I didn’t want anything with him. He wouldn’t listen to me. Each time I fought and pulled myself away from him I was forced back into his grasp. It was getting annoying, “Stop, seriously stop.” It’s like men are programmed to keep going when women say “Stop”. We could have went on all day like this as if the hour and change I dealt with this wasn’t enough.

“Stop,” I said his name to put an emphasis on my seriousness. “I don’t want to do this, I don’t want you to do this. I don’t want you to eat me out and I don’t want to have sex with you. It’s too soon. I’d feel like shit about myself.” He stopped, only to return to his mission a while later.

Nothing happened. We continued on watching tv and we ate although I had no appetite. I had other plans and I had to get going, it almost seemed as if he didn’t want me to. I knew it was because his mission was still a fail. We had our awkward ’I’m-only-going-to-kiss-you-goodbye-because-this-is-probably-what-we-should-do-after-a-day-of-making-out’ kiss. As I walked down the steps he watched me from inside. I knew I wouldn’t see him for atleast a week or two or probably even three. I didn’t care if I didn’t see him. I didn’t care that we would hardly speak after it. I only wondered about why I kissed him and I wondered why I felt like I was cheating on someone who didn’t exist. Maybe I felt like I was cheating myself by kissing him in the first place, but I didn’t care.

10/13/10

Beauty lies deep within the soul, so long as you feel beautiful it shows...

Dewy, crisp morning, Brooklyn streets, the setting is instilled in you
The steps you take are familiar, they are habitual
The sun peaks at you through apartment buildings and two family homes
It wants to wake you up, remind you that you are alive,
But you feel like you are living in a coma.
The tapping of your feet into the trainstation and
Hoping to hear the screeches that let you know you public chariot awaits,
But you better make it because every person on it is impatient
And forbid they wait just two more seconds to continue on to their habitual lives.
We've all got these habitual lies we tell ourselves to make things seem like they have a purpose,
"If you're not making a difference, you are dormant"
I was told, but what making a difference is to them might not mean shit to you
So stressing yourself to become someone seems normal.
Why are you making every thing so hard when there is all this simplicity from the beginning?
It's so basic. Make yourself happy.
The say insanity is 'doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results',
Living is a cycle, no matter what you do
You could do something different everyday of your life and that would be your cycle
So if you are going to form a habit of something make sure it is something that makes you smile,
that makes you laugh, and that makes you love it even more, but never makes you wish you had your life back because once was just enough to satisfy your hunger.

Free Write: Something Beautiful

It’s like when you feel a train leave the station and you’re walking in the opposite direction of it’s own, but parallel to it. You walk within those yellow lines even though, in part, it frightens you to feel the strong vibrations of everything around you including the ground beneath you. The wind blowing your hair back reminds you of the force it exerts and makes you wonder what would happen if even a small piece of metal was lifted up by this force and flung at you. Would you die? Would you experience extreme pain?
That’s the feeling of danger you get when life starts going by really quickly. You have no control of it’s speed and what could happen if even one small thing goes wrong. You expect things to run smoothly and you stand in between the yellow line separating you and life. Most people stay behind it to avoid the possibility of something terrible going wrong, but you want to know what it feels like to feel the wind in your hair. You know that to experience life, sometimes you have to take risks.
So, you stand there watching it pass by, getting closer and closer, and then something flings off and hits you in the face. It hurts, it hurts more than anything you’ve ever known, but you wipe the blood and you endure the pain. You know that all wounds heal. You keep moving closer and closer to life moving so fast by you and then you touch it, but you aren’t there yet so you fall down from the impact. It hurts even more than the last time, so you lay there for a second. You almost give up, most people would walk away from it there. You feel sorry for yourself, but only for a second. Then, you reach your hands below your chest and push yourself back up. You brush off the mess you made, and you put yourself back together again.
Now, you stand there and life seems to finally slow down so that you can see all that has happened. You collect all of the memories of the incidents that hurt you and you accept them for what they are, scars and all, because life is finally coming to a halt. All of the beauty you had been waiting for and working so hard to get would soon be visible to you. You stand there in awe, this is life, and although the time you waited seemed long and the life you waited for seemed hard to reach, you know this is the beginning of something beautiful

*Note: This is just what I do on the train… write randomly.

9/16/10

Passionate, I want to be passionate about more than love.
I want to want more than love.
I guess I want love so bad because I have always felt I have lacked it.
Being attacked by, more than just your everyday bully.
I only knew love in the form of clenched fists slammed against my fair skin, or
Love in the form of words that hurt more than the welts on my body.
I was "nobody, but a piece of shit", and as pathetic as it is, I never felt beautiful, I couldn't even believe it when mami said,
Because mami loves her fair skinned, dark-haired baby, but she was the only one who saw beauty,
And most people would say that when you have a face only a mom could love then you have no face at all.
Ridiculed, traumatized, convinced by people's lies, and alone so I had to make a world of my own quick.
I drowned myself in books and movies, not only about love, but all the ones about love had the same idea.
I had to be beautiful, I'd have a man that would tell me I'm beautiful everyday,
I'd be filled with problems and insecurities, and I would have a man that would love me anyway,
he'd want to tell the world, he'd be so deeply in love, we'd fight and we break up, but he'd always run and chase me before I could get away.
So I never cared about a man, I only cared about the love.
So I'd suck the love out of anyone who dared utter the word or act like they cared, even just a little.
I only wanted the love, but none of it was real so it never satisfied me.
So I spent a lot of time alone, still wanting the love, without any strings or unnecessary sexual advances or advancement of relationships.
I gave up on the idea that I had to be loved and then right when I almost completely seperated myself from the need, I fell.
I fell deeply into something toxic and all my passion for being alone and being alive turned into needing love again.
So now I need love and I can't turn away from the desire.
It burns within me at all times and I can't let the habit die.

Is love really a three letter word?

The question is, are you ready for the inevitable?
The eventual flaws and misteps of a relationship that can't be fixed,
Because you don't really want to.
We take two steps and three steps forward
In exhange for 6 steps back.
For two more concrete steps to fight until someone steps back and falls to the floor
And on the floor is, unfortunately, usually
Me, crawling back.
This territory so unfamiliar outside of this,
but in this I'm just that
Crawling
Until the edge, then I hang on for dear you
Like you, are my life.
Like all of this wrong could someday be right.
I'm so tired of playing Bellona, goddess of war,
Pretending to be this warrior of love, for you, my god,
My love.
In my eyes, you are a supreme being
So angellic when you rest
So enthusiastic when you are, just. being. you.
And for this alone, I thank you.
I ask of you to see me for my worth,
Because I'll fight for you, and with you.
Until the end of time
Or atleast until the end of each day with you.

Wind.

Long days, I’m trying to make things right.
Long days, I’m trying to get through them.
Long days, I’m stressing myself through them.
Long days, I’m floating through them.
I see wind, I hear wind, I feel wind,
And there’s this constant battle between me and it
And in it I feel so weak, but I keep going.
It pushes me back, my little body so insignificant against it’s large mass.
In a moment time slows, and I feel all of it.
It consumes all of the space around my body and it moves me.
My hair on ends, my feet to the ground, and my arms lifted slightly and I call out into this wind,
“Save me.” Nothing.
I call out once more, “Save me from everything I am becoming.”
I drop my head back, I look up into the sky, I bring my hands up behind my head and tug a little on my hair, but I keep moving.
There was no answer, but I knew it.
Time resumes its pace, and I stop.
I drop my arms, I look straight ahead, and I keep moving.
I see wind, I hear wind, I feel wind,
And it moves me.

Little Boisterous Woman

note: free write on the A train.

I’m not lyrically as equipt as the finest of these poets that stand here
Making words into elaborate forms of emotions
Making sure you can see each adjective and hold each noun
Be each noun, make sure you can feel it from neck up and… down, right into your heart and pump its way through your veins
Make you feel from your toes to your fingers so much so you feel like you can visualize yourself writing the words into the walls of your brain

And I can’t maintain a flow, I can’t rap, I can’t sing
I bring no different elements , I have no special words
My vocab is limited and I guess this is where it ends
I’m. just. kidding.
All I have are these fingers and I just found my voice
I’ve been floating over the sounds of life avoiding them so I hope you can hear me over the noise
Focus.

This is the only thing I can bring to you
Sweet vibrations, low like sound the sound of water washing up to shore while the people sleep and the moon watches over the sea
Smooth, like the touch of a lover
This is all I can bring to you


BUT THIS LITTLE VOICE CAN SCREAM SO LOUD
This little woman can reach her hands up high
And touch the clouds at the tiny height of 5’2… and a half
And I hope I never have to come back to the ground and feel and breathe and know that you are here listening to me
ARE you listening to me?!
Give me an ear, one day I’ll be someone
That’s what mami tells me
Give me an ear, one day I’ll be someone
You just wait, that’s what mami tells me
I only have my voice, I know its not much
but it will be.

April 16, 2010

What a new feeling to feel light and without despair dragging along
I’m afraid to trust this side of life
I’m afraid to trust this side of love
These are two sides I haven’t had the pleasure of ever seeing
It seems so unreal and as a realist it’s so hard for me to believe in things that aren’t familiar to me
Everything is different: I’m so afraid to let go of my doubts because if I get too optimistic I might die if let down
I’m the queen of the glass being half empty
And I have gladly worn my copper crown for so long now
It’s broken in now so if I let it go I might be letting go of my other skin
I am trying so hard to accept good things as they come
I am trying so hard to believe that in absence you became one
And believe that you will never stop being a good thing,
A light in my life
How much happier am I to feel your fingers intertwined in mine now?
I am overwhelmed with this feeling
My heart loves this feeling.

FEB 18 2010

More proof that I never finish anything I start. I just read this piece I started writing circa October/November. I like it … a lot actually. It is a real experience that I learned from and I had so much to write the day I had inspiration for it. Now I’m reading it over and over again and guess what? No motivation. I know what I want to write, but the words aren’t processing in my head the way I’d like them to. This is what I have so far:

I wish I never got drunk that day. It was a Monday, spring of my junior year and I was supposed to be in school instead I was downing a bottle of Georgi. They told me it was cheap, “but it will sneak up on you”. I doubted that, I didn’t think it would have snuck upon me the way it did. I remember my first cup, after a few minutes it hit me hard. I remember my self slouched on Kris’ couch claiming that I wasn’t drunk, but my eyes felt so heavy and I wanted to rest my head. I felt so thirsty and the only thing that could quench my thirst was more Georgi. I couldn’t even feel the burn anymore just the sudden reflex gag that I always experienced from the strong taste. After the threats and the yelling began they told me that I couldn’t have any more. I wasn’t having it, every time they weren’t looking I poured another cup. Eventually, I just took the bottle to my lips and embraced the cold glass rim. The room didn’t spin, it did something more than that. It twisted in weird ways and I could only catch a few glimpses of faces and sofas… and floors. My feet played a trick on me, they wouldn’t hold me up. Everytime I lifted one up to make a step I landed on the floor. The floor hurt, but it kept returning and crashing hard on my knees and hands. All of the voices were a blur, I could only make out a few things that were said, but I was having a torn and beaten conversation with the voices.

I really want to finish it because I know it will be one of the better things I have ever written since it is so personal. I just need the inspiration to continue. Where are you inspiration?

FEB 19, 2010

I wish that things could just be

I wish I could wear love on my chest

I wish you could just see

That I want nothing more than little things

Like understanding, trust, and loyalty

I do not treasure material things

These values are what are important to me

The little things you think go unseen

Are exactly what I notice most

And if I’ve every hoped for anything

It would be to put all worries to rest

And live like two in harmony

I win

There were dollar signs in her eyes behind each iris
They also lined her lips, and she wore them like gloves on each hand
In the daylight she shone like the sun
By the night she was the moon and each star would envy her light
She illuminated in the dark while her victims kissed her face softly while grabbing her by the neck
Reverse pyschology she'd say
Let them think the upperhand is theirs
She wore the pants, and the 5 inch Louboutin heels that cracked hearts for wallets with each clack to the ground she floated over
She didn't like to be held because no man's touch lasts forever
Besides she'd always knew she'd live fast die young
And beautiful, dangerous was she
She was bad for their health, like a curse
They'd chase after knowingly
They had the illusion she was a rose when really she was the thorns
She was born to take and not give
She was born to sin
They had no choice, but to love her
Then she'd lead them to the end
Blindfolded with a cloth marked,
"I win"

February 5, 2010

Emotions raging like the waters in the storm

Wading through the ocean of worries I am submerged in

I can see the sun in the distance attempting to fight its way through the thickened clouds

I swim, I swim harder, I swim…

Don’t let me drown.

-A.d

This is probably the worst time to post this..

Written months ago...
"Father"
All the pain you've caused me from day one
My mother is a part of me, no not partially, but fully
So the day you broke her for your own selfish needs you broke me too
I was only 1 or 2
I wasn't old enough to make a choice
You were scared to let me make a choice, but look at what you did
Now my choice will never be you
I've felt my moms tears on my shoulder
I've hears her wimpers while she holds me
You never wanted a wife and a daughter
You only wanted slaves that will never leave you lonely
Because They. Have. No. Choice.
Well I have a choice now
Karma brought up the person that I am, to you, from hell
Oh, can't you tell father?
That you played your devilish games and now they've come back to haunt you
These games you knew so well now I know
And I know how to make you wish you had never fought for me so hard knowing you were breaking my mother's heart with every lie you told

Then I got older, father, but not old enough to understand that what you did to me was abuse
No you never were a pedophile, but you abused me worse
With each blow to my body and mind
You wanted to take away my strength, you wanted to take away my voice
But even with your hands wrapped around my neck
And me to the point of seeing black, not a breath left within my tiny chest
You couldn't take the fight in me away
Every day you yelled so hard at me I could feel your spit on my face I grew numb
Because I already comprehended that I was a "dumb bitch" and "a piece of shit" the 1,001st time you told me
You didn't love, you hit, I was an animal to you
Helpless since you suppressed my voice by telling me you'd "end the life you started" before the cops could even get here
So I wouldn't touch a phone even if my mom was on the other line unless you weren't home or you touched it first
You wanted to hurt me, you wanted to see me in pain
Just like every other person who didn't obey your rules
Because it was "your way or the highway"
You killed him you know, you're father
And my only true love
The only person who loved me most
Loved me so much he'd die for me
And die for me he did, I'm sure he didn't want it to be so soon
But see, I had to learn to not be afraid of you
All. By. Myself

Do you know who I am today father?
Because I don't
The only thing I know is that I expect an apology from every person who comes into contact with me
I want them to feel pity on me, the poor victim I'll always be
The only words I've never heard from you mouth
Give me your sympathies for everyone you've hurt
But right. We don't deserve it
I beg it, but you're too proud for that
Aren't you?
I want to see you yell those words until your face turned blue because its never a problem when the words are what you want them to be

And I know I'm partially to blame
Because the only thing we've shared these days is a last name
And part of me doesn't even want that much relation to you
Father
What's in this title you held the day you bore me?
What shouldn't I expect if I want more than what's before me? What can you do father?
Ill never be satisfied
My cries will never end and my ties to pain will never end
Because I won't let them
Until your heart dies, but father I'm not sure you've ever had a heart
Because to have a heart you have to care about someone other than yourself
I guess that makes me heartless, too
If you're my one and only father and I don't even care about you
That's our biggest relation father
We have no heart, we're monsters
Soulless beings, you and me
You want something to brag about to your friends?
Tell them I'm just like you, I don't deserve love just like you told me everyday you placed a closed fist upon me and through me you're monstrous legacy lives
I am your kid, you're daughter, but I promise I won't let you live even when you're alive
You won't live within me when you die
I'll let you be gone forever, so don't boast too much father
Don't be so proud of what you achieved when you made me
Because you could never face me and say I'm sorry