a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








forthwith


black stilleto boots. walking across the pavement onto the moon lit sidewalk. careful now. watch the curb. a thousand invitations in her purse. pink parties, blue parties, dinner parties, dancing parties, drinking parties. black stilleto boots. she steps into her car. fumbling around for the key. stick it in the ignition. let it warm up for a little while. head falls against the steering wheel. head up, music on. she'll drive herself home tonite. she'll drive herself home, alone. black stilleto boot hard against the gas pedal. her car, a silver blur flashing against the ebony sky, the white, snow covered earth. she turns the music up louder & louder, mostly to block out the thoughts (that can not be blocked out.)

she'll think about the places that she could be. dancing, laughing, smiling. fake. fake. fake. she'll think about the places that she's been. worse yet. so she'll drive herself home & she'll cry herself to sleep & she'll think of him. & she'll wait for something that's just not coming tonite.

is it better to reign in hell than serve in heaven?


written on 2004-01-18 at 10:56 p.m.

she / lost