De Colores.

Journal: June 16th, 2006

These words roll off the tongue, but our true thoughts are stuck warm inside our mouths like the gum we pretend not to chew. Didn't they ever tell you it will eventually make holes into your pretty pearls and everyone will see how you lie through your teeth. Close your mouth shut like a good little clam, and shhh!, don't say another word. How many lies did you tell yesterday and how many will you tell tomorrow? Little white ones. Sometimes when they ask us a question we give them a learnt response or a reflex of a nod in the other direction. The half truth that is enough for one not to be made a liar out of, yet a fraction of the pie all the same; the better piece, the clean cut square-shaped like a comfy bed piece. It serves best as a triangle though the sharp edge might hurt them. Just a little jab perhaps, but enough to make us hold our breath while it stings.

It really is that time again where I have to restrain myself from the plunge into insanity as the blood flows and the thoughts go like wildfires burning my entire body, but it's just hot flashes. I am presently in the land of erratic moods and thus have distanced myself from people at least until the intense physical pain subsides. Some months or so it isn't very terrible at all though every now and then my hormones like to toy with me until I crack, but I'll be fine. I still refuse the pills to control these pre-menstrual swings and I wonder how long I will be able to go on like this. I suppose until there is no longer an alternative. The older I grow the less viable it appears to be.

I still want someone that I can crack open like an egg. My yellow-bellied chick, let's get down to your roots. I want to know you from birth. I want to know the secrets you keep within your white room. I want you to tell me things that you think will appall me and I want to make them my feed. Know that time is a passing and I am running out of knives to cut you open with. I was going to let you take your pick of which kind and what way I should skin you. I'll lay it over me like a blanket while you tell all your stories. I'll take good care of your meat. I just want to know you, so stop telling me those white lies. I only want black truths; your hidden fears, your darkest secrets, your real intentions. You make it impossible to love you for you because you sugarcoat everything. My teeth are rotting. If I were to be left with none but my fangs would you give me some blood then? I did try to cut you once after too much vodka, but I didn't want to hurt you. I only wanted to get under your skin.

We have both been monsters. I was green-eyed in that body, and you wore my two charcoals in place of your salty olives. My pools of black which you said have soul, but on you they look positively indecipherable. I have accused you of being empty and cruel and you were always chased away by my temperament. Our misgivings would turn us away from one another time and time again. But now I'll keep swimming my way through the dark waters to get to you since you do not reveal the night to me on your own. It's been so long. My eyes have been so green you'd think they'd bear fruit or perhaps grow lovely and tall so I can climb up to the land of giants. I wonder if larger brains make for a telepathic race.

Reviews

[Liza]

Roxanne, I'm sure I have said this before, you are so very talented. You have a way of expressing your emotions so profoundly that I (the reader) can visualize where your mind brings you and i'm there with you.

Excellent,