"why did you fuck me over?"

he sits silent.

"you never cared did you? at least i pretended to care less, but cared a whole hell of a lot more than you did."

"you can't say i didn't care-"

"yes i can. you claim you cared, but all you cared with was with your dick. i've never let any guy fuck me over until after...you know what's funny? i had a nightmare with you in it... and i hate when nightmares come true."

"maybe you shouldn't have pretended to not care."

"maybe you should have been honest from the start."

"i said what i felt at the moment."

"never believe what you feel at the moment for someone you fuck. time tells with that shit. i don't even want to see your fucking face anymore."

"it doesn't have to be like this-"

"but it is."

"i think you have to be mature."

"i think you have to be feeling what i'm feeling, oh wait, you did this to me. fuck off and die."

she gets up and walks away.

regrets

i was talking with a. and k. today
we came upon regrets
and i was surprised that
after a moment went by
so many came to mind:

i regret that-

-i didn't run away
-i didn't shoot myself with that loaded canon
-i didn't cut deep enough
-i didn't run away
-i went to the academy
-i bullshitted my parents (esp. mother) for so long
-i ended it with him
-i didn't say "i love you"
-i didn't run away
-i started drinking
-i didn't run away
-it was you instead of me
-i became an alcoholic
-i didn't end it
-i'm still here
-i am not running away
-i am an alcoholic
-i'm still alive

and without the first two regrets...
i wouldn't still be here
wondering

it seems my purpose of living is to make regrets

alcoholic

idleness to an alcoholic
is like walking the plank
over a tank of alligators
with human blood on their teeth

an alcoholic prefers company
chatter, clatter...sex

an alcoholic prefers
like a customer to a whore
to pay for company
any company

more than talking
more than listening
that body present
doing likewise
thinking likewise

paying for sympathy

an alcoholic is better off
driven off the road
six feet of dirt as a blanket
a tombstone for a pillow
----

when i'm even half alive
and i feel nothing

i will not be inconvenienced.

when i'm even half alive
and i feel something

i would give the rest of my life
to it
because it will be the most i've ever felt
in so long

i just realized... it's almost a year

and i wonder where all that time went.
and know you'd be disappointed that i haven't moved on.

but right now...
i still can't believe it's almost a year
since your death.
because every time i think
and have you in it...
you were just alive... and just now died.

it's so unreal...
the mind can get so unreal

and i can't decide if that's beautiful
or horrific

the hypocrite speaks

i wonder why men choose to begrudge women so much - is it comedic for them to say such things as though it hurts no one? and the women who simply laugh along just to find approval in the company of men. i think once again the feminine rise has fallen on the wayside.

i feel sometimes that nothing has changed. there is no more equality than 60 years ago. no more equality, but in actuality - laws have changed, rules have changed.

but the issue i find is that people have grown too content with how things are when the change could be taken further.

no wonder even women don't want to be women. this complacency, this stuck atmosphere - no wonder we seek the company and power of men and insult even our own kind - when really, the only growth all gender has had is sexually. no wonder slut and cunt is thrown about. women have forgotten about the one collective - females - and since then, we have ceased to grow.

not saying women aren't free. they do, with the right choices throughout life, have every opportunity to reach freedom as any man.

but throughout that woman's life - she will have faced those crude looks, vulgar remarks, multiple more tests and hardships because she is attractive to the straight male in power.

even when it comes among friends - the woman will see her male friend as a friend, equal in that respect - a companionship - but he will view her as a female, a friend, but with the possibility of something more - and when that's rejected, he moves on, loses respect, or still covets.

i shouldn't be so sad over all this. truth.

my mother calls me a quitter
at first my heart heats with everything to say
but my mouth remains shut

and then i listen
her morals, the way she was raised
sticking to things to the end
no matter how much you hate it
no matter how much your heart cries
no matter how much you want to die
you stick to it til the end
whether you die in the process
or the end is death
there lies her stoicism
everything that is good
and right
and respectable
in what she thinks
everyone's eyes.

i say
fuck that

i don't think i've ever learned
because i've never broached it with anyone

but i'm tired, otherwise.
i wish i could experience love
even to lose it.
than to realize love after it's gone
and never really having it in possession
...
it was buried with his body

it's an image, i could never take out of my mind
his face was all wrong
his hands crossed over his chest.
him so still
i wish i were next to him

i thought it so wrong

it is so wrong to see something like that

if i can help it.
i would never go to a ceremony of death