and on the topic of "girl getting bitter"...

So, Miss Lady of the Pains and Aches...you said you'd be looking this blog up and so..as promised, here's something for you out of my very own journal, written not 2 months ago. Remind you of any conversations you've had lately? Maybe now that we are not at the bar and gripping PBR bottles with our teeth and then glugging them above our heads like water coolers you can hear this: Take heart, dear sardonic one..it comes and goes..mind the puddles.

Dear John-
It's not you, it's me.
It is Somebody who is not you
It is some body I have yet to know the breathe/curve/voice of and
there are NO NEW MESSAGES
though I do keep leaving messes
but if you'd quit tossing your heart at my feet like a banana peel then maybe I wouldn't step on it and then skid on it across the linoleum.
I don't have the why of this
you are a sight for
psoriasis
every time you darken my door.
Did my kisses taste like metal when you propped me on this plaster pedestal?
Witches always melt in the rain.
Pull my waxed chest apple out of its ribcage prison..have a bite and find a maggot at its core.
It's not you, it's me.
I just need to find myself.
I just need to find myself with somebody else.
But my tedious pet,
don't
fret.
For your munchkinland can sing
"Ding Dong, the Witch will wait long..."
For there are no new messages
there are no new messages for her either.