Life Lessons of a Broken Girl to Her Almost Grown Son
It didn’t hit me until I actually went to the homecoming game that I’m if not gonna have a senior year. It made me sad, I literally teared up when they were talking about how everyone in class of 2018 was so excited to be graduating, and all the fun stuff they are doing. It was the homecoming game tonight. I’ll never have that, I’ll never have a prom, I’ll never have anything a kid is supposed to have, and this is supposed to be a teen's most fun year. I’m really starting to question whether moving away was the right decision or not.
My Precious Boy,
I've been thinking of you and how unfair this whole situation is all day. And bawling my eyes out feeling so much guilt; that if I had made different choices, you and I wouldn't be in the situation we are in today.
And that is true. We wouldn't be.
I'm sorry for that, but no amount of sorry and nothing that I say or do can UNDO the past.
The thing about choices is that good or bad - you've got to live with the outcome of those choices. You can learn from the past and try to be different, try to be better and make better choices in the future.
The good thing about bad choices is that once you've lived through them, you have the opportunity to be changed for the better. You can use what you learn thru these experiences to BE better - maybe it'll help you remember to think before reacting, maybe it'll teach you to be appreciative to your loved ones, maybe it'll give you an new understanding or an empathetic heart that sees others in turmoil and just wants to help.
When you refused to write those essays and send them to me when you first arrived... I told you then that I wasn't going to pay your fine, it would be useless to do so when you weren't going to complete the other portions of your sentence. I told you then that failure to deal with that would make returning to California tricky, to say the least.
So.... even if you were well behaved and able to avoid the cops in this too-small town where they literally know you on sight... what do you think would happen when you went to school?
First, they'd ask where you've been for the last 3 months. Then they'd call Officer FatFace, because you've literally been a truant since the middle of August. At that point, I honestly don't know what would happen.
She'd call your dad, the high school has it in their files that nothing of yours is to be released to me. Ever.
I have no clue what your dad would do at that point, it's fair to say he is a wildcard that we can't predict his reaction. Best case scenario - she'd release you to your dad, who would be publicly thrilled at your return, simply to gloat about you being taken from me and given to him for the third time. Of course, in private, you'd have to live with him... and face his discipline, as well as the legal consequences of your court charges. Worst case scenario is that they'd take you downtown immediately and toss you in juvenile lock up. I know you think I'm paranoid, but please remember how many times my paranoia ends up being entirely too accurate.
I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, son, and one of the hardest lessons I've learned is that Life doesn't rewind, we can never go back to the way things used to be. We make choices in life that are irreversible - and even if you go back to the same spot, with the same people - it's never, ever the same again. It can't be!
When people make hard choices or go through tough times - it changes them inside. When those people try to go back to what is familiar, they feel out of place, like they no longer fit into their old lives at all. Kid, even if you had no legal issues in California, coming home would only be good for a week or so, tops.
Because imagine how disconcerting it will be, coming home where we lived and have so many memories.... to see new things, to see B in your room, to see M and me and E and literally everyone and everything you've ever known - to see how smoothly life has carried on without you. You are partially disgusted at the lack of progress out of your loved ones while simultaneously insulted at their failure to recognize your progress. It's unsettling, leaves you feeling off balance and out of place, to say the least. It's a desperately lonely feeling that leaves you bitter, resentful, and ready to bolt yet again. There's an old saying by Thomas Wolfe, something about how boys grow up and leave home as children, but can't ever return home again. Like, a kid leaves his mother's home as a boy, but venturing into the world on his own helps him grow into a man. And maybe it's 6 months or a year or 5 years, but when he returns to his mother's home, he isn't the same smart mouth kid who left, but a grown man who just doesn't quite fit into that particular slice of the world quite the way he used to. It's true, and I am certain that going backwards isn't your path at all, kid, you've gotta move forward.
The most important thing I can say to you is no one has shared my heartbeat the way you did, and our bond is unbreakable. That means I know you better than anyone in the world, and I know you're tough enough to get through this.
There will be hard days that you don't want to get out of bed, where you just feel bitter and mean, and like you've been cheated out of a life you could've had. You've got to move on past those days, son, don't give in to them and don't let pity parties become a habit. It's okay, it's normal and it's expected to feel sad and angry at times. But in order to be happy again, dwelling on the past or what could've been will do nothing except keep you frozen and miserable. The best thing, the only thing you can do is to focus your mind on where you're going, not on where you been. Where do you want to be in a month, in a year, in 5 years? Think of that, then think of what needs to happen to get there. And then do that.
You were smart and courageous enough to save yourself and change your life. I know it's hard, and I know that your own self doubt is eating you alive. Don't let it.
You are amazing and beautiful and I'm so proud to be your mom, it's the best thing I've ever been or could ever hope to be. And it's because I love you that this hurts so badly, but I truly do believe that coming home is 100% the wrong choice for your life. I'm sorry. Coming home would be giving up, and I'm not gonna let you quit just yet. You're a badass, you're my son, how could you not be? I know it, and I can't wait for the world to know what I do.
I believe in you and I love you to the moon, kid, forever.
You burst in the room
With an angry explosion;
I'm startled and jump off the bed.
Your eyes have me frozen,
Ice cold like your heart;
My foolish heart's heavy with dread.
You scoff at my panic,
My fears make you sick;
Unless it's a day that I've failed.
Your fury unleashed
On the days that I win;
You win when you leave me derailed.
The voices you're hearing,
Whispers in the walls...
You want me to hear them too.
These voices are real,
They belong to your ghosts.
Ghosts hold all the truths that elude you
I've got ghosts of my own,
I can't bother with yours;
My haunted house runs on complicity.
Nothing's ever your fault,
It's the way you were raised;
You deflect and deny culpability.
Your blood on my hands,
Your hands on my throat,
Hands that destroy my possessions...
Floor covered in glass,
Your cock in my ass...
Secrets make deadliest weapons.
Our bed is a crime scene;
I like your big gun...
I've been convicted, you fucked my life...
Will you promise to stay...
If I vow to obey...
Kisscuts deep when love's like a knife.
You're weighing your options,
You're ready to run....
You're certainly full of uncertainty.
You're gone and I'm glad
Mad feels better than sad
Too bad, love destroyed by insecurity.
There's a broken barstool on the floor.
There's a fork sticking out of the wall.
There are tears running down my cheeks again.
The aftermath of our last Lover's Brawl.
Your things are packed up in the garage,
The suitcase is packed with your clothes.
Your hands left bruises on my skin again,
My skin yearns for more of your blows.
The fight is over, my anger dissolved.
And I'm alone, wide awake in my bed.
The highlights, the lowlights of You And Me.;
Each moment replays in my head.
I read through our texts, our war of words,
I cringe at each cruel, hateful taunt.
I know you better than I know myself,
what you love, what you fear, what you want.
Insults thrown like hand grenades.
My insecurities are your greatest weapons.
The secrets you stole when you hijacked my heart;
Become ammo, this is Love Armageddon.
It's a vicious cycle we've fallen into,
Each battle leaves us bloody and battered.
Sorry can't unsay the things we just said,
Can't fix trust that's been broken and shattered.
My war-torn heart is full of regret;
I weep bitterly for what might have been.
For the years we wasted, the pain we caused,
For my weakness, cuz I want you again.
My bed grows larger as the night goes on;
I need you, I love you so much.
No one can wound me the way that you do,
Nothing soothes my wounds like your touch.
And it won't take much to change your mind...
If I'm crying, if I call out "Baby, wait."
I don't want you gone, you don't wanna go,
You fall back, my turn to retaliate.
I cling to the soft spots you've buried deep;
You search for the girl I used to be.
Our love was captured, a prisoner of war,
Now we're broken, lost Love Refugees.
And there's nothing fair about the mess we made,
There's no undoing what has already been...
I'll never forget, I hope you'll live to regret...
When love becomes war, no one wins.
Songs of the Unforgiven
Lost in the dark, tangled in silken threads...
My heart ripped to ribbons, my soul torn to shreds...
With memories like landmines, with secrets that stain;
Nightdwellers are prone to turn pleasure to pain.
Pent up emotions become violent eruptions;
We reap what we sow, and I've sown my destruction.
Do you measure your worth based on someone's opinion?
Have you acted out thoughtlessly for someone's attention?
Is the child who adored you now full of suspicion?
Welcome to my world, we've been deemed Unforgiven.
The days that I find myself lost in the memories,
Become nights I spin reckless, too much restless energy.
I make the worst choices when the future seems bleak;
When the mirror taunts cruelly, when remorse leaves me weak.
I wanna feel good again, for tonight, for a moment.
Add to my list of sins needing atonement.
Have you suffered in silence to avoid confrontation?
Have you blown up your life giving in to temptation?
Was becoming his fall back plan your heart's ruination?
Was your redemption revoked while you sought sweet salvation?
Destination unknown, I am destined to wander...
Wasted again, like the potential squandered.
But what does it matter? It's my blood that's spilled.
What matters to me is that my empties get filled.
If I clear the bong, take it straight to the dome;
The empties will stop trying to burn down my home.
If I snort this line, or an 8ball or more;
Maybe they'll let me get off of the floor.
And if my empties get filled with a bottle of gin,
I'll savor the silence, till they start in again.
Blindly, running wildly, I'm ahead of the pain.
But I can't outrun that which flows through my veins.
The wind strokes my hair like a lover's caress;
Icy, cold fingers slip beneath my torn dress.
Afraid to look forward, afraid to look back...
I'm frozen in fear as I brace for attack.
I look up at the stars, at the moon seeking guidance;
The stars blink, the moon winks in hateful black silence.
Confirming a lesson I learned long ago;
I've got no one to save me, and nowhere to go.
If you've accepted more apologies than given permission...
If giving your heart inspires panicked apprehension...
If every choice hurts, when there's no good decision,
Well, the road to hell was paved with good intentions.
How long can I run when I'm destined to fall?
Karma's a bitch, and she catches us all.
I give up, I concede, I collapse on the ground.
I'll take what I get without making a sound.
The Darkness overtakes me, and the next thing I know,
I wake up in a strange place that isn't my home.
Now I'm slinking away with my head hung in shame.
Full of self-loathing, but I have no one to blame.
Despite my best efforts, I'm still aware and alive.
Each day, my Day of Reckoning; my curse to survive.
Forever, Only at 4 AM
Kiss me again with your liar's lips
Whisper to me sweet accusations
Prove your love with marks on my skin
I bleed prettier when you hold the blade
Welcome home my love, how I missed you
No one kills me or fills me quite like you
You alone touched the depths of my soul
Tell me you'll stay, you won't leave me again
Or walk away, and never look back
This love replenishes, even as it ravages
Your love feeds me, your love consumes
When tomorrow is clouded by uncertainty
When yesterday's lost in stillborn dreams
We connect when Darkness grows vulnerable
We collide again,
Forever, only at 4 AM
With intensity of love just discovered
In this tomb, on this bed of broken promises
He Tasted Like my Self Awakening
I knew that he looked at me, but he was just a kid, only 19 years old when I first met him. I was 32 at the time, married to an older man who was far more interested in discussing sports over a few cold beers than in me, or anything I had to say. At 19 years old, AJ walked with the cocky swagger that jocks tend to develop in high school, but whenever I saw him, he was the epitome of good manners and easy conversation. Still, there were times I felt his eyes move over my body like a lover’s caress. Sometimes, I'd feel the heavy weight of his stare and I'd glance up, my eyes unexpectedly would lock with his, and each time I would squirm beneath the intensity of his gaze.
My husband was best friends with AJ’s dad, he was thrilled that their family had moved back to our boring little town. He'd known AJ since he was born, and liked to boast how he'd even changed his diapers. AJ’s two younger brothers were the same age as my kids, we soon fell into the easy routine where holidays and weekends were spent together. We could be found on summer weekends swimming and barbecuing, fall and winter traveling to nearby towns for youth sports.
Our families were close and spent so much time together that the younger boys began referring to each other as cousins. AJ wasn't around as often, since he was old enough to escape with his own friends. When he was around, he was always the odd one out. He was 8 years older than the oldest kid, he was 13 years my junior, and I was the youngest of the adults. Too old for the kids table, too young for the adults'. And while I found his admiration flattering, it wasn’t anything that I reciprocated, it wasn’t anything I’d ever given consideration to.
Years had passed. And while it seems like nothing ever changes living in a boring, little town in Nowhere USA, the truth of the matter is that things are changing everyday. People change, children grow older, couples get stuck in ruts, love grows stagnant, babies are born, old people die, new relationships flourish, and marriages fall apart. While nothing ever changes, nothing stays the same either.
My marriage was in serious trouble. Our life had become routine, our sex life was nearly non-existent, and behaviors that didn’t grate my nerves during happier times were becoming more intolerable with every passing day. AJ’s dad was at my house 3 to 4 times a week, drunk in the garage with my husband, who preferred standing around outside to coming in with me and the children. I went to work, I came home, I drove children to school, and practice, and doctor’s visits, and games. I did laundry and cooked and cleaned, I organized carpools, chaperoned field trips, and coordinated halftime snacks with other moms. I did most of it on my own, asking for help from my husband was met with open hostility, or with flat out ridicule that I was unable to handle anything on my own. In hindsight, I can see that I was the one who changed, I’d grown sick and tired of shouldering the responsibility for the entire household while my husband felt like his responsibilities were over once he’d clocked out everyday at work. Add to that the manipulative machinations and emotional abuse of an unhappy drunk, and it's easy to understand how desperately unhappy I'd become.
AJ pulls up in the driveway, he is 23 now. Still a kid in my eyes, although he is a cute one with blonde good looks and a spark in his eyes that promises a fun time or a whole lot of trouble. Probably both. He’s grown a bit bolder over the years and while the flirtatious comments are always playful, I know there’s an element of truth to his words that his teasing tone can’t quite hide.
The music is playing and there’s a slight breeze, just enough to stir the hot night air. It’s summer in the desert, still in the mid 80′s at 10 pm. I’m sitting in a lawn chair in the driveway, long legs stretched out using the bumper of my car as a footrest. My husband and AJ’s dad are in the garage, ignoring me as usual. AJ leans on the hood of my car in front of me and we talk, about what I don’t remember. He’s flirting again, and I like it, I’m flirting back this time. His blue eyes look at me in a way that reminds me I’m still an attractive woman, even if my husband doesn’t notice.
Suddenly, I’m aware that AJ’s shirt is off. Was he wearing a shirt when he walked up? I don’t remember. I’ve seen this boy without a shirt a million times, but right now...I’m actually seeing him. How did my eyes never notice before that he had grown up so nicely? Hmmmmm. His core is lean with tan skin taut over well defined abs. My gaze lingers there, I can’t help but think of my husbands round, pink belly covered with coarse hair turned gray. Did he ever have abs like this boy? Hmmmmm.
AJ’s skin is smooth and hairless, and I notice his hip bones jutting out, the ab muscles taper into a V that disappear beneath his basketball shorts, ending with a noticeable bulge. I look up and my skin flushes, he is grinning cheekily, he knows I was admiring his young frame. “See something you like?” He asks innocently. Sassy mouth.
I reply something unintelligible, and for some reason I reach out and grab one of his hips. Maybe to establish that I'm in charge, maybe to show him that he's not as hot as he thinks, maybe just because I have an urge to grab those hipbones of his that wave to me like an invitation. I dig my fingers and thumb into his skin, it’s warm and smooth. I have an urge to put my mouth there, suddenly I want to trace that V with my tongue, I want to catch his hip bones between my teeth. I’m shocked at the thought, but still my fingers pinch and pull and squeeze thoughtfully. He jumps in surprise at my unexpected touch and glances into the garage. His dad and my husband are still paying no attention to us. He moves a bit closer and now both my hands are grasping his hips, his eyes lock with mine, and an unexpected tension is born as the energy shifts between us. His skin is hot and alive beneath my hands, there is an electric current traveling from my fingertips to his hips, through our bodies and awakening within me a hunger that had gone neglected as my marriage had grown cold.
I let go of him, scared at the direction of my thoughts, relieved to see my husband still oblivious to the storm brewing in the driveway. AJ laughs a bit, but his chuckle is nervous and I can tell that the effect of my touch was startling for him as well.
Later, laying in bed it was AJ’s face I saw when I closed my eyes, remembering the hot, smooth skin of his belly beneath my fingertips. I place the fingers to my lips, as if to taste his skin still there. My body is hungry, I reach out to my husband and run my hand along his spine. His skin is leathery, roughly covered with coarse gray hair...so different from AJ’s smooth, soft skin. He grunts a bit, I press my lips to his neck, offering my body to him. He pushes me off. “I’m tired,” he says as he rolls away from me. I lay back on my side of the bed, empty and unfulfilled. Again.
Weeks pass into months and the relationship with AJ and I has changed. It is charged with electricity, the sexual tension between us builds every time we see each other. There are stolen kisses in the hallway, hands groping urgently in the bathroom. The playful comments he made before have changed into flat out promises of mind blowing sex. I’m stunned at the boldness of his words, yet also intrigued, a little bit terrified, and more turned on than I’ve been in many years. It is an intoxicating blend of emotions, this growing urge within me is getting louder, hungrier and becoming harder to ignore each time I see him. It’s there in plain sight for anyone to see, but no one is looking at us, no one notices the fire burning in my eyes begging to be extinguished.
My husband and kids are gone for the weekend, I’m home alone. AJ knows this and heads over. My stomach is a roller coaster, my nerves are alive and tingling with anticipation. A choice will be made tonight, one that could change my life forever. As tempted as I am, I'm still torn with the church guilt leftover from my youth, knowing the terrible sin of adultery. Plagued with fear, I don't want to do anything to disrupt the lives of my kids, not to mention myself, I enjoy driving my silver SUV and my 1800 square foot house on the corner. I enjoy the comfort of my life, while I hate the miserable, manipulative sham of my marriage. I know what the right thing to do is, but the right thing is rarely the easy thing. Still, the time has come to decide - will I do what I should, or will I cave to temptation? Would giving in to it finally satisfy this raw, demanding hunger that has been gnawing at me for months?
AJ is here now, standing in front of me. I’m drinking straight whiskey, liquid courage. Words are said, I don’t know what. I know my responses are punctuated by the rapid drum of my racing heart, my skin feels flushed with heat from the alcohol, and that eye contact with AJ feels as intimate as if he were already inside me. I know that AJ’s shirt is made of the thinnest, soft cotton, his hair smells like shampoo, his hands are calloused, rougher than I expected them to be, and his blue eyes seem to get darker as his desire increases.
We are inside the house now, in the master bedroom, on the floor. Months and months of build up have led to this moment. Our mouths are fused together, tongues dancing in and out, their own mating ritual. My hands pull his shirt over his head, I slide my palms over smooth shoulders and chest and push him backward to the ground. My lips blaze a trail from his collarbone down to that V at his hips that’s been driving me insane for so long now. There is not an ounce of fat to be found on AJ, his body is made of hard muscles and tan skin, flawless and unmarred. He could be the poster boy of youthful vitality, he is handsome and toned and beautiful. My tongue traces the lines that delineate his abs, he tastes faintly like salt and strongly like a terrible mistake. So fucking delicious.
My mouth is shameless as it makes its way down to his hips, I get his belt off in seconds and pull his pants part way down. I catch his hip bone between my teeth, he squirms letting me know it tickles. I smile at his discomfort and relish the power of my awakening sexuality. His hands are in my hair and I rub my face across his belly, nuzzling, allowing my lips to brush the smooth expanse, so different from the body I’m used to, and so damn sexy. I could do this for days, it would take hours studying his ribs and abs and hips, mapping them with my fingers and mouth to get my fill.
Suddenly the hands in my hair are grabbing firm, he pulls me up gently, bringing my face to his. Our mouths meet again, this time he’s taking the lead, I sink into the floor as his hands rip off my shirt, then his lips and teeth are on my breasts and my mouth exhales sharply at the unexpected thrill of this new sensation of my nipples in his mouth. Teeth nibbling gently map a similar path down my belly and stop at my waist, his hands pull my jeans and panties off expertly in one swoop. And then, before I can blink, his hands are under my ass, cupping the cheeks, lifting and guiding me close, his face is between my thighs, his warm breath teases, and then we are engaged in the most intimate kiss of all.
I’m gasping for air and helpless to the sensations as his mouth continues to work me, skillfully using his tongue and lips and teeth. I’m more than a little surprised that a boy of his age is handling my body with this confident expertise, not the clumsy, fumbling manner I’d been expecting. My whole body grows tense, and my thighs are vibrating, and he knows what that means, my back arches and his tongue works frantically pushing me over the edge of an orgasm that leaves my knees quivering. Blue eyes meet mine, he slides up my body and our lips meet again in a kiss that promises even more. I can taste myself on his lips and I’m so turned on, and so wet, and any last remnant of doubt is tossed away like his clothes as I rip them off wildly and let them fall where they may.
Back down his belly I slide, this time skin on skin, my nipples hardening from the friction as they slide down his chest. I bite his hip again and thrill at his slight jump. I trace my fingers along that V, that V which has been haunting my dreams and fueling my fantasies for months. Finally, I’m able to taste it, finally I follow that V to its conclusion and I’m pleasantly surprised at his size, larger than I expected, already hard before I’ve even touched him. I tease with my tongue and lips, kissing and nibbling all around his hips and belly, letting the lust take over, taking in his scent and savoring this moment. I smile at the sharp intake of his breath when I grip his shaft with my hand, testing its solidity and weight. Our eyes meet as I lower my head, I open my mouth and take him in. His eyes close and he exhales deeply as my mouth moves up and down his considerable length, and I’m drunk with the power of his desire and my own lack of inhibitions. Working him with my mouth, getting wetter by the second. He tastes faintly of salt and strongly like the end of my marriage.
After a few moments he grabs me by the hair again and pulls me to him. He positions me on my back and slides his hand between my thighs, testing my readiness. Blue eyes darken and he smiles, realizing how wet I am. “Are you ready for me?” He asks cheekily. Sassy mouth.
“Yes!” I tell him and still he teases. He’s rubbing himself all over me, using his hand to guide the head against my lips, teasing my opening, spreading my moisture over us both. “Please,” I say, uncaring at this point, desperate to be filled. My body is beyond hungry, it's starving and has been starved for far too long. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and with lips pressed against his ear I whisper “AJ, please. Fuck me.” And that does it, and with one thrust he’s inside - and he’s so fucking deep, and I cry out with pleasure as I feel myself stretching open to receive him. My legs lock around his waist, my arms are still locked around his neck and it feels so fucking fantastic, so unbelievably, mind numbingly, toes-curling, eyes-rolling-to-the-back-of-the-head, astonishingly, shockingly amazing. Finally, that hunger is being fed, the sexual appetite that had been ignored and denied for years is feeding at last, and it’s ravenous.
Our bodies rock back and forth, my hips rising to meet his every thrust. Our tongues are swirling madly, as breathing becomes more labored, as hearts pound wildly to keep up. The tension is building inside me again, and I am completely at his mercy. He is pumping into me with a knowledgeable proficiency a 23 year old shouldn’t have. He is driving into me with the enthusiasm and energy possessed only by the young and unjaded. My fingers dig into his skin as he takes me over the edge again, and I’m unable to stop myself from crying out and we are coming together. I can feel him empty into me and my legs lock him in place while I squeeze every last drop out of him.
He collapses on my belly, breathing hard. I am stroking his hair, a little shocked at my licentious behavior, more shocked at how satisfied my body feels. Now that I’ve given into temptation, a niggling of guilt pokes at me. I push it down, allowing the thunder of multiple orgasms to drown that unpleasant thought out.
AJ looks up at me then, his blue eyes are sweet and earnest, and I smile. “You’re amazing ” I say and he smiles back. He moves up and pulls me close, we are snuggling and I feel happy, ignoring the fact this is the bed I share with my husband. My lips reach out to his again, one last kiss before falling asleep. He tastes faintly of salt and strongly like the beauty of new beginnings.
Twilight, and the ocean breaks gravity;
Force of nature, meet the nature of force.
Knife lightning flashes,
the Sinful Moon crashes;
Swallowed by black seas of remorse.
We often get dumb, chasing the numb...
Till I'm branded by shame and regret.
You keep your forgiveness,
My survival, my business,
I forgive, but I don't ever forget.
A shift in tone of the sea's lonely song;
Sorrow silenced, drowned by the Rage.
Hymns tragic, yet beautiful,
Praises, dark and delusional,
With a pain that will not be assuaged.
Nightfall, and the world I once knew is gone.
Mother Moon's been drowned in the sea.
Earth stops it's useless pursuit of the sun,
As the universe takes the Chaos from me.
The world falls to madness, you've fallen off...
I stand alone on the last edge of Earth...
A woman unbalanced....
Another man's absence....
Fools fall for the fallacy of rebirth.
The sky cries (don't die!), it bleeds acid rain.
This world long-overdue for a cleanse.
If you seek the Lord's Guidance...
And he answers with Silence...
Make your peace, cuz you can't make amends.
Midnight, and Planets jump off their orbits,
Neptune and Mercury are dancing.
It's all fun and games
When anarchy first reigns....
Then it's done, and the galaxy's collapsing.
Jupiter's moons kill the 12 brightest stars...
(So what? Stars dim and die everyday!)
If your passion explodes,
While your family implodes.....
Here comes karma, there'll be hell to pay.
Morning, the dark hour just before dawn.
I run ragged down the same rugged road.
Cling to hurt, cuz it's familiar,
You're my savior, you're my killer.
Shoot again, I'll hold still while you reload.
Daybreak, Hellfire conspires with the sun...
Are you saved, washed in the blood of the Lamb?
Say your prayers or your goodbyes,
Kiss your babies and hide their eyes.
I'm coming soon,
The world be damned.
Bitterly Ever After (Extended)
Princess Aurora had a nasty, little secret...
that's evolved into a new Big Bad Habit....
she feeds greedy habits surreptitiously
Then she refills the medicine cabinet.
Cinderella makes the loveliest victim...
(she never quits crying and bitching!)
An overly sensitive, nosy little twerp
If she's not whining, it's a safe bet she's snitching.
In a world that prefers the Prettiest People,
Snow White's been beautiful since birth.
When beauty gets bartered, sex is for sale;
The mirror shows Snow White her true worth.
Ariel's a Little Mermaid with Big Demands;
(She's an over entitled, ungrateful little twat!)
Happiness to be found in what she's missing,
Since sadness came from what she's got.
Back to Aurora, now a Sleeping Beauty.
That Big Bad Habit ran her over!
Marriage is comatose
(time for a lethal dose!)
Or that's what she thinks when she's sober.
Cinderella found True Love at the Royal Ball,
She caught a husband, then she got round.
The Prince got a wife he could never please,
Unless he kept cookies around.
Snow White loves attention from admiring men;
Her own Prince isn't as charming as before.
Seven dwarves ran a train,
(she came again and again!)
Snow White is a cock hungry whore!
Ariel wanted legs to catch her Prince,
She failed to think about consequences.
Ariel caught her man,
then she caught his hands,
He caught a case, as she lost consciousness.
Seeking attention...(or salvation? redemption?)
The Princess is saved by Prince Charming!
That's all we're told, but if the story unfolds,
You'll find ever after is most alarming!
Little girls should know that passions fade,
Happily Ever After is a goddamn lie.
The Prince gets drunk and kicks your ass -
Or he belittles you and makes you cry.
You had some babies, gained some weight;
Boredom has killed the desire....
He's screwing the neighbor, you're screwing the gardener;
You're falling lower while he's flying higher.
You stay together
(don't break routine!)
Or maybe he goes to Texas without you.
Either way, you're bitter, sad and alone.
Either way, you'll survive the way you do.
Little girls, don't be like the fairy tale whores;
They hide what's Ugly under all that's Pretty.
Pretty only works
On Your Knees or your back;
Better to be smart and tough! (And a little shitty!)
The Power of Night
I am drinking a cocktail of moonlight...
It's a toast to our love reunited.
Sunshine reborn in my mad, midnight world.
Yet the Darkness remains, uninvited.
The bones of my mother still cut me deep;
My father's fears fulfilled as prophecy.
My brothers are posting their fat, FakeBook lives;
Truth hidden behind rank hypocrisy.
The wails of my child now rise with my own;
In torment, in perfect pitched harmony.
Lamenting the high price of innocence lost,
And the cruel shame in mindless conformity.
The galaxy serves up another stiff drink,
I toss it back, and now I've lost gravity.
I'm floating, I'm flying, I'm chasing starlight.
I'm fleeing the harsh sting of reality.
You're lovely while sleeping, your dreams make you smile;
My dreams make me wake up screaming...
The monsters still play in the bright light of day;
Nightmares live beyond boundaries of dreaming.
The self righteous sinners in their Sunday best...
Feeling safe and secure in complacency.
Those in glass houses should never throw stones...
Holy rollers fall fast and ungraciously.
Day dwellers' don't know the true power of night...
It's the power to deny culpability.
Dodging bullets and blame, outrunning the shame...
Night dwellers' find peace in dark anonymity.
Your hands on the steering wheel as sunlight streams in the windshield, as the town rushes by the passenger window, as the desert wind wails outside the car like a mournful cry. I see you there in your golden beauty, and I wonder again why you bother with me, why you are here with me, and how long it will be until you leave me again.
Looming large on the corner of the intersection where we are sitting at a red light is a hotel. I see your hands clench the wheel tighter, and I know why, and it feels like a knife to the belly. Tainted are the memories of our stolen nights here, back when I was married and you were carefree and we both played recklessly with the emotions of those we were supposed to care about.
A muscle in your jaw twitches and I wonder if you're wondering how many others I met at the hotel during your absence. The knife in my belly twists, tearing me open, while images of faceless men who could never compare to you flash through my memory like accusations. You know far more than I wish you did of how poorly I dealt with life during your absence. I wish I could take it back, I wish I could take back the entire last year, and all the hurt and shame and anger that stain me as surely as the invisible cum stains on the hotel comforter. The psalms of regret and remorse play in a continuous loop through my mind, like the familiar verses of my childhood, in every cheap hotel Bible laying untouched and ignored.
In the distance, church bells mark the noon hour and the light turns green and we're off. The tension in your clenched fingers eases as the hotel is left in our wake. I wish again that the pain we inflicted on each other could be left behind as easily. The hotel on the corner is an ugly reminder of all the ways we fucked our love up. The scars we branded each other with are inescapable.