The D Spot » Pride

edit this, baby

Sat, 31 May 2008 01:48:29 +0000

so here I can be who and what I want. There I am being edited and changed around.
“too repetetive” she said.
“You can’t start a sentence with the word ‘but’”
Ok fine but they are journal entries dearie, and you said you like my style.
Here I will be what and who I want.
I might be your best friend or your worst enemy.
I might be the meanest person you ever met,
or the most loving and caring person you can imagine.
I might be the saddest story you’ve ever read, or
the best lay you’ve ever acheived.
I can be whoever (whomever) I want
and I can change it with the click of the mouse.
God, I love that edit button.

Like a woman

Mon, 19 May 2008 21:31:51 +0000

I can take it like a woman, babe.
Trust me.
I am strong and I am capable.
I can let your criticism roll off my back
and I can bypass your thinly-veiled
anger.
Hell
I can give it right back to you and better.
I can take it like a woman.
I can smile at you when you hurt me
I can swallow back tears with the best of them.
I can roam the internet, late at night,
searching for what you somehow can’t give me
or
don’t want to give.
I can fold your towels and wash your clothes
all with a determined, housewife air.
Inside though,
I am a woman and I am strong
I have thoughts, I have feelings.
I am smarter than you think–
smarter than I let on, most times.
So yeah, babe, I can take it like a woman.
I guess you’re the one who needs to worry now.

puddle of wax

Mon, 12 May 2008 14:36:26 +0000

words once said cannot be un-said;
they remain
crinkled like paper in the trashcan
or
hidden like the razor in the cabinet under the sink.
You speak harshly and I fall senseless
to the ground
overcome
by your quiet lack of regard
for what it means to be nice.
Compliments have never flowed easy from your lips
compliments couched in criticisms are another story,
of course.
Someday will you tell me you love me
and make me believe it?
Someday will you really look at me
and instead of telling me ways to be better,
just take me in your arms
and let me cry there for a while?
Like the silent flame from the unattended candle
I smolder and go out.
Drowned in my own puddle of wax
and melting on the floor.