6/9/2004

you’ll always have that to hold as your own. scribble it down in your little book of accomplishments. your very little book.  you hold your seeming ‘perfection’ above my head, dangling, a little higher.. a little harder… a little higher.  and you hold back a wry little smirk at my struggle.

i didn’t say i don’t deserve every once of misery you put me through.

i didn’t say that.

fuck.

i said that.

so this is what it looks like on the other side. excuse me while i slip into something more comfortable.  as if clothing makes a difference.  i might be here a while.