free write 1

Monday, June 30

His eyes wrench me open, asking everything I never will. Answering their own questions before a word can leak like honey out of the grooves between my teeth. The shining example of masculinity I was born to is nothing more than a plastic army toy masquerading as the real thing. But his camouflage has been eaten away by the Coke stains that still spill down his cheeks from years ago. My cherry lips lose their color slowly each time we speak, all the blood from them rushing down into my gut and turning with the bile that lives there. I am nothing of this man, even if his DNA tattoos itself into me, my middle name his bastard child.

On the other hand, we have the boy I barely know. The boy I've spent a mere hour with and yet hear in all of the weeping notes of my favorite ballads. His glossy hair and curious voice. Whatever void I am trying to fill, it's ripping further open by the second. When I am nothing more than raw flesh, let's see whose blood will rush back into my lips.

14 comments:

  1. i really dig the way your words always paint a picture for me... i can see the lost girl looking for something, i can feel the heaviness of your words.

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  2. you write like a painter xx

    http://thepersephonecomplex.blogspot.co.uk/

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    1. Thank you darling. This is a beautiful comment :)

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  3. This is so beautiful! Love it :)
    theemeralddove21.blogspot.co.uk

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  4. "answering their own questions before a word can leak like honey out of the grooves between my teeth." that is a great line. i wonder if you mean his eyes are making their own assumptions and coming to their own conclusions before this other character can speak for herself. along similar lines, i know people who audibly ask a question and then answer it themselves, not giving anyone a chance to have a voice. i have learned to just listen and let them ramble. i actually think it's how they prefer it.

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    1. In my experience, those people do prefer it that way. Those are some tricky people to talk with.

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  5. It's never exactly the numb that we miss.

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  6. Does he see what you can be, what you will never say? does he see who you are and how you want to be seen (as this – I firmly believe is not denial – but who we really are). Have you been recognized?
    Still "your middle name his bastard child" such a potentially all time favorite line, so forgive me, as I “free write” this comment, as you have set me off to a journey, with this…

    Many men's blood will rush back into your lips. You are too much in love with life not to be in love again, and too be loved again, a million times.

    xxx

    PS we almost started a little "john green discussion" on my blog, and I replied to your great comments twice and quite elaborately there. His writing confuses me, I admit.

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  7. Your writings are so beautiful!

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  8. I'm so impressed at what a portrait you've creative in a free write - to think that these words have come naturally from that place in your brain that spills all raw creation is so inspiring. This makes me sad, as well though, and i can only guess what it's about - but however much it hurts and tears you open, at least you're turning it into something powerful and strong with your words. xxx

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  9. Holy shit, dearie.

    I'm awestruck by your writing and forever humbled that you considered a measly post of mine good. Please keep writing.

    love,
    a

    www.missdecaf.blogspot.com

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  10. damn girl, you're killing me... you did it again...
    this is dynamite seriously...geez I can't wait until you publish a soon to be best-seller book... honestly... you have it in your bones, your blood, your brain, your soul.. the talent with words runs with you...
    I particularly enjoyed this line " My cherry lips lose their color slowly each time we speak, all the blood from them rushing down into my gut and turning with the bile that lives there"...
    I read the entire text twice...not because I didn't understand it, but because I wanted to experience it all over again... I feel more proud of you each day...I can see how you evolve... stay true, stay you...
    big hugs..
    Ivette

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  11. My hands went numb as I read this (and saw the pic!!) You are a very powerful writer!

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Thank you for your words; they light a fire in my heart. You are lovely.