Dont cry tutu mumu

its okay little baby

the silence wont hurt you

the stare wont pierce your heart

and this smile

is brimming

just brimming with sincerity



Shh, shh little one

why so afraid in the darkness

theres no one here to taunt you

no one here to haunt you

just you and i

and this rusty cage



should i spin it for you

would that make you stop crying

would you shut up if i

spun it faster maybe

or maybe you need

a shorter chain



would you stop crying

my precious one you make me so

so so so so angry

i may have to eat

your precious tongue

if the gushing blood wont bother you



why dont you stop crying

stop altogether

my razor carves into your back

delightfully smoothly

its rusty edge staining

your pretty pink skin



why wont you fucking die

is this blade not long enough



look i clever me

i carved your mothers name for you

on your forehead silly me

how could you see

without a mirror



when will you die

you stupid fucking child

i fucking hate you

and your blood is staining

you bad little thing



'tsk tsk...you're fucking sick'

'no i'm not...i told you...it was my dream...it was a haze...i woke up...i scribbled...besides...i think i was the child...really'

She doesnt believe me for an instant; and shes right. Its always the eyes. betrayed once more.

'You enjoy it dont you? the violence...the creepiness...it draws you forward...like its your calling...'

She could be right you know. As far as I recall, i thoroughly enjoyed writing that piece. Whyd i show it to her? If i had a moment to breathe, i would sigh right now. The truth; it needed recognition...even if for a moment someone out there despised it, it made me feel like i had accomplished something; brought them just one step closer to a deeper understanding, or at the very least jarred their emotional status, jolted their minds into functioning, even if in a purely critical manner - who cares, here was a real conversation unobsessed with fragments of a day gone by, melodramas, visitations to the bathroom and the deep, deep discussion of ones daily diet. fuck that shit. Then again, this isnt turning out to be much fun...

'I can totally understand your need to portray your feelings like this you know - its just that i really cant stand it...and you know me, im a very open person'

My she has pretty eyes. I wonder whether she would kiss me if i reached forward slowly, ever so gently with my lips parted; gently moistened while she wasnt paying attention. Wait let me think about this one...

'uhuh'

God that was a deep reply...I've always been, 'one of those' . you know the type...they stroll around with sort-of understanding of life written in their faces. Quite honestly, shes very pretty; god i want to hold her...

'hmmm....you're not paying attention to anything i'm saying are you? i dont know why you bother with talking if you dont even care what i have to say...you know? you're so goddam arrogant...nothing against you babe, but you always have to make me feel inferior somehow, yknow? or at the very least, make me feel like you dont care...do you care?'

What a strange path there is in life...a moment ago all i wanted was to kiss this beautiful girl, and heres the perfect opportunity...do i take it? will she think im being arrogant...theres no way ill be able to resist smiling complacently as our lips connect; i love her after all...goddamit...i have to say something or she'll be offended...maybe? im confused...is this still about the poem? is it? should i ask her? should i assume? should i make a witty comment or a fleeting remark or a hearty joke? i really wish i could hold her close to me...

'i wanted to show you cause umm...cause i wanted to share it with you...thought you might appreciate a bit of the macabre...its not really me yknow; just a piece slipping out of my mind...im guessing its main purpose is to shock and stimulate...stimulate...wink wink, nudge nudge'

There! told her the truth with a perverse little joke attached too! was it the truth? could have been more honest i suppose, but wheres the fun in that? mistake?

'you know, quite honestly, i liked the piece...nothing great technically, but its not bad...its Your piece and its unique and beautiful in its own way yknow? i can see That....i just dont like it'

what the fuck? hmmm....she doesnt like my piece .... if i could do it, i'd make a sad little face right now but i cant; shes watching my every expression...dont let her look into the eyes...goddamit man, whyre you feeling dissapointed...you yourself said earlier you just wanted to show her the damn piece to get a reaction and nothing else...now you're looking for approval too? what the fuck...wait i get it...i get it all...you arrogant bastard...you think you love her so much you would totally accept anything she says or does and since she just said she dint like your poem, youre upset...Hippocrite; you cant even accept her judgement on your poem...why is everything so complicated?

'yeah i know, thats cool...just felt like showing it to you'

i shrugged...thats never a good thing...shes picked up the negative vibe...look of concern in her face? nope, its the obstinate well-if-youre-gonna-be-like-this-then-Fine-i-can-be-difficult-too look...I dont want to kiss her now, i just want to leave....wait, for fucks sake, shes probably thinking the same thing about you - you're the one who shrugged...and since when do you talk to yourself from a second person perspective all the time? weird, im scaring myself as i think this.

' i gotta go - use the bathroom'

the great escape

'okay'

she shrugged...shes averted her eyes from me...staring at the TV screen with a vacant expression....shes thinking about me...negative things...she doesnt like me right now...i loved her...i truly did...a tragedy; completed...id best go...