....

"why are you crying then?"

"i don't know...guess i needed to"

"about what though?"

"...don't know"

"was work stressful?"

"yeah...i guess"

"what happened?"

"nothing really...nothing unusual"

"are you upset with your parents?"

"i don't know...yeah"

"are you upset with him?"

"no"

"did you talk to him today?"

"not really"

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"well we didn't 'talk'..."

"when?...when are you gonna stop?"

"it's not him...it's not my parents...it's nothing"

"well...it's something because your upset"

"is it?...does it have to be?...maybe i could just be upset for nothing"

"who does that?...that's dumb...that doesn't even make sense?"

"maybe because you've never been upset over nothing before..."

"stop...what happened?"

"NOTHING HAPPENED?"

"dude...whatever...okay fine"

"...it's that...what you just did..."

"what?"

"no one gets me...and that's not even the worst part..."

"huh?"

"the worst part is...no one even tries"

"what are you taaaaaalking about, I just asked you what was wrong?"

"...i don't know...i don't know"

"okay...just tell me...i'm listening"

"my 16 year old...she cried today because...she said...she's lonely"

"and..."

"she said she's keeping him around, even though she knows he's sleeping with another girl, because losing him would be worse than living with the fact that he's with another girl too"

"so...so what...she's a kid"

"no...she's a person...who feels alone"

"okay...so what does that have to do with you?"

"...nothing...nothing...it has nothing to do with me"




"...sooooo you wanna go grab a drink"

"sure"

"where?"

"i don't know...where do you wanna go?"

"i don't know...where do you wanna go....."

i need air

lingering memories of burn and suffocation and "I'm done"
overshadowed by nostalgia... damn fucking nostalgia

echoing music of slow devastating heartache bouncing off ceilings... and dark rooms... and falling asleep in her clothes
swollen eyes and whimpers and hour long sniffing
and coffee coffee coffee

desiring only distraction but ending up alone again...drained...exhausted
and no one will know except for one...and these painted walls

because southern strength is driven from within...deep within
from held in...pent up anger and pride and proving to yourself that you don't need anyone...
not even your mama

so, dark will be the house... and light will be the outside
and no one will know except a chosen few...sisterhood

and when it's over...it will be forgotten...or at least not talked about or mentioned

because memories only reflect strength in these parts

until it's someone else's time to hurt...and then we reveal our "dark side"...our "weakness"...
only as a means to offer hope and healing to those we love that hurt the way we remember... but desperately want to forget

broken love

__________________________________________________________________


i dreamed of you today

you screamed and yelled and cussed at me...in front of everyone

you were wearing green and black

and i had forgotten about you...didn't call you...and you had to take a cab

you tried to act okay at first

but you knew i didn't want you there

i hated you in my dream

i hated that i might become like you

i hated that you would treat me that way in front of my friends

i still haven't called you today...and i won't tomorrow

i'm still angry at you for what you did

still angry at you that my mind could subconsciously think you could do that and play out a story while my body...my mind...where too exhausted to stop it

you're messages won't affect me today...the more you call...the more i hate you

let me sleep in peace

_________________________________________________________________

i don't care...care more than you'll ever know

"you're a mean girl....you're a bitch!"

you spread rumors of sex and betrayal...
you're everywhere i am...staring
you never win...because you try too hard...way too hard

stop trying and the crazy goes away
stop caring and the crazy goes away

but you can't stop...and everyone knows
no matter what you do... you always lose

you make me look better than i ever could on my own

i thought i was drama
but when i feel neurotic
i think of you
and feel sane again
___________________________________________________________________

D-Remember when he got so drunk that he made us go out into the snow with blow dryers and hammers and beat the ice off the steps???

M-Yes

D-It was crazy...why didn't you stop him?

M-(silence)

D-Remember when he chased me around the table, caught me by the hair and threw me up against the washing machine....you saw him do it...i saw you...you were there

M-(silence)

D-Why didn't you do anything???...SAY SOMETHING...SAY FUCKING SOMETHING?

M-(silence)

.........long pause..................

D-You were afraid too, weren't you?

M-(silence)

D- You're glad too aren't you????

M-Glad about what?

D-That he's dead
_______________________________________________________________

i love it when you do that...that thing...right there...you're doing it now
like you know i like it even though i've never told you
even though i've done everything in my power to make you think i could care less about you and the things you care about

go ahead and take her home...in front of me...i don't care... it kinda turns me on
because i know you will think of me
because i know you're just a nervous kid overwhelmed by fame and drunken sex
i know you see me...watch me...but you won't know i care...ever

selfish seems to work...i should have learned that by now

you won't effect me

and you won't know he stayed with me last night
and i kissed someone in the ocean the weekend before
and it was good and different and innocently orgasmic

and i didn't think about you
and you would hate it if you knew
hate it more than the power you feel taking her home in front of me

you will not hurt me...i will hurt you

__________________________________________________________________


you fought it 5 years ago and it almost killed you...almost killed me

so helpless in the hospital bed...big strong, American staple of what "man" looks like/acts like

and i held your hand thinking this may be the last time I see you

always thinking this will be the last time i see you

prolonged hugs and minute kisses on the check and foreheads

everytime...EVERYTIME i leave you...i weep

please do not go just yet...please hang on...for me...my kids...for the man that i chose

part of me will die when you are here no more

i'm not ready to die

because when you leave me...my only stable roots, the only stable man in my life... will disappear

and i might too

please hang on

don't go

.......i'm sorry...i've never heard of you

i only kissed you the first time because you looked like someone i used to love

isn't that messed up...i feel like i should feel guilty or embarrassed or ashamed...but i don't

you were better...smoother...had done this before...lots and lots of times before

i had never heard of you or your band...even though apparently everyone else has...and i say i'm sorry...and you say "i'm glad you don't know us"...and i never really know what THAT means...

because you won't be glad when i don't come to hear you sing because i'm at Blue moon dancing to Maria Carey or JT...but you say you like JT and the Reds and you love sports even though it doesn't look like you've exercised a day in your life...and your dark wardrobe and messy black hair would make you stand out at any sporting event...

you sang and sweat and spit and yelled into that microphone...and i wanted to be that microphone...ha

i don't even like your music... but i saw you caught up in your passion...and it was sexy...and dirty...in an underground dive bar rock n roll almost famous kinda way

black hair, pale, skinny, skin tight black jeans...dark red circles under your eyes from sleep deprivation or drugs or sickness or all three....but they saw me as beautiful...you liked my dress...

"baby girl" "darlin" pulled me close...you smelled like beer and tasted like cigarettes...your pale skinny chest and arms covered in trashy colored tattoos...and i liked it

seemed appropriate for you to be holding a bottle of jack and smoking a cigarette as you laid beside me...and it would have been a picture perfect album cover...oh...and you're band is making a video too?...congratulations

you talked about LA and New York...how you aren't meant for this place...and... i really do hope you get out of here...not necessarily because i think you or your band are gonna make it...but because you will never be happy here...you'll always be wanting more

money's not important to you...the "american way" is not important to you...as a matter of fact, you despise it...along with organized religion and war and George Bush... but you like to talk about all 3 when your drunk... and mostly i agree with you... and even if don't, i won't fight you because... you're so gentle when your feet are on the ground and not on stage...

and you don't even provoke me to fight because i know you won't...because you don't care who wins because...you already know what you believe and it's okay that i believe different

and you touch me so soft...sometimes...at the right times...and you stop when i ask you too...

and you think i have it so together...mostly because you dont...and you hate girls like me usually...but there's something about a women with an education and a job that won't let you do THAT....that didn't know your name when all of this town does...

and why do you always end up liking me...and me you...we are so different...

i hate your music...you hate mine...you won't dance...i can't stop...your atheist...i believe in Jesus...i drive a nice car...you drive...sometimes...never...you're house is trash and full of liquor bottles and empty cigarette cartons...you live in the ghetto...thats why you like staying over...you're always younger...barely holding a job...

and i can't get enough

what you can offer me is...the opposite of loneliness...but not companionship...it's different...it's fun and non-threatening...and...it's just...what it is i guess...but it's nice to have you around for right now...but not for long...you know that right??...

and what i could offer you...you wouldn't want...because music is your life...it keeps you a live...and music is what i listen to when i get ready for work or am driving in my car or when i want to dance

you come around every year...different face...different name...different band...

but the same guy...

and you stay a while...until both of us realize what a brilliant disaster this could turn into...


anyway...

i'm sure i'll bump into you this weekend...and the next...

and the next