Inconsistent Drabbles

I am having an affair with the moonlight
I watched it as it came up tonight
And I know I should be in bed, safe pillow underneath my head
But the moon was calling my name

( It is always brighter than you. )

"This is really sad. This is really, really sad." There was a short crinkle that sounded like James was moving. A sudden sob was heard loudly before he spoke again. "I can't even...I don't know what to say. I'm sorry? Aw, sorry's probably not good enough, is it? God, I really wish I knew what to say because then I would say it. And mean it too. I swear. I would. I don't want to keep living like this, 'cause it's not right...and when people are telling me I need an inter-- an intervention, I know something's wrong. I...I'm sorry. I sincerely apologize? God, it doesn't sound right at all..." There was a long pause here, and Laura heard James sigh into the recorder. She could imagine him, his face screwed up in disappointment, disgust, disbelief...remorse? She could see him running his hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes...

"I'm so sorry."

The tape stopped there.

"So why did you kiss me then?"

It was obviously out of desperation.

But do I really need to tell you this?

"Savor the daylight, Jen."

She turned to her friend and stared blankly as Gracie Barnes stared at the setting sun. When Gracie said no more, Jen turned back around and continued staring at the rise and fall of her chest. Her bustline had improved this summer; it was something to marvel over in her eyes.

"Well, the day's almost over. I should probably be getting back home," Gracie said, sighing and slowly getting up from the grass.

"What?" Jen called, tearing her eyes away from her boobs. "It's only, like, five o'clock!"

Gracie shrugged. "Daylight Savings ended. It's getting darker earlier. What can I say?"

Jen got up to say goodbye to Gracie, but frowned as she did so. "I hate when you have to go. This is ridiculous. I still don't understand -"

Gracie placed one cold finger over Jen's lips. "Ah, you do, but you continue to pretend like you don't. So you're the one who's ridiculous." Jen just rolled her eyes in response. "Alright, I'll see you later then?" Without another word, Gracie started to walk away and seemed to just disappear, merging with the clear air around her.

( It's as if you're a ghost. )




 

I'm pulling my hair out strand by strand
They fall into little clumps of black and purple and dirt
Until all that's left is a red scalp
A red scalp and a naked girl.

So this is what she looks like under the wig
This is her surface deep beauty that is rarely seen
She can only hope to be loved
For who she is and what she has.

I've got a major headache but my brain's numb
And my head feels too light on my shoulders
It's almost like I've forgotten it
I only wish I could.

She obviously doesn't like what they see
She's obviously not comfortable enough with herself
But I have not yet walked in her shoes
And therefore, cannot judge.

Look at me. LOOK AT ME.
Bald as the eagle flying over American seas.
My scalp's still torn and sore
But my hair will not regrow.

And with suspicious eyes, she now lives
Alone of course, because she can't tolerate anyone
And nobody can tolerate her
And her sour face.

I found I am nothing with my beauty
Outer appearance is key
Forget what they tell you
They are lying.

She's giving up because she can't believe in herself
Or them, for they have let her down again and again
And the disappointment hurts much more
Than the absence of her hair.

This is perfect.

This is what I always wanted. This, and only this. I didn't want the gifts, the promises that you knew you wouldn't keep, the desperate attempts to get me to side with you...

I never wanted any of that. I just wanted you and her to get along so we wouldn't have to suffer. 

They knew the streets like they knew the backs of their hands. Some of them had been on the streets since they were seventeen. Of course they had the pathways memorized. Of course they knew which alleys were most frequented at night. Of course they knew who owned what territory and where it was safe to rest.

They had street smarts, sure, but they had luck on their side too. They had cunning and skill and agility and experience. They didn't look too superior and they could blend in just fine, but don't ever think that they were just like you.

Because as soon as you voiced such a thought, you'd be dead.

"I don't understand how you can just give it up to somebody who's not willing to learn anything about you," he murmured, still keeping his predator at a good distance with his palms.

Just say you're okay so I can leave without a guilty conscience.

Dear Mother,
I wish to be a flamingo.

Why hello, Mr. Spider.

Is this another web you've set up for me? Why thank you. It's looking quite glossy and intricate.
You're so very sophisticated, Mr. Spider, with the way you catch people.
You catch us when we're vulnerable and off-guard. We don't see you coming at first, Mr. Spider.
You or your web.

But by the time we do, it's too late.
The last we see of you is your bright, shining teeth biting straight into our hearts.

Make it painless, Mr. Spider. Please make it painless, all for me.
I hope I taste good, Mr. Spider. I hope I'm a tasty treat.

But in hindsight Mr. Spider, I should have been smarter and faster on my feet.
Because what a way to die, Mr. Spider -
Being devoured by an invisible enemy!

"Come on sweetie, I know you want me," he smirks, his greasy hair in his dark, dilated eyes.

You groan, roll your eyes and push him away.

You might be lonely, but you're not desperate.

Ryan, your everyday city kid, has been accepted into a summer program which will take him from his city surroundings and place him in totally unfamiliar territory: on a ranch. He is mentored by the owner of the ranch, a kind guy by the name of Andy Hurley, and Ryan has to get acquainted to wide, open plains and farm life. He's never worked so hard in his life, but it really becomes worth it in the end - or at least, that's what the information pamphlet said.

Peter was usually a trusting, somewhat naive child.

But he learned quickly that the men in the black suits and dark shades were not his friends.

I suppose it was nice knowing you.

Why did you have to change?

You'll sit there with your head in your hands; you've got another headache coming on
You're crumbling from the inside but you refuse help because your head's still stuck up your ass
Ask anyone, we've got the right advice, the right answers - you're just the wrong person

Um, no one cares all that much except you. I think that's a sign that you need to GET OVER IT.

Sometimes it feels like you can read my mind.

Then I remember: you actually can.

"Ugh! People are fine with cheating just as long as they don't get caught!"

"That's not necessarily true..."

"It's so horrible that people just think they can do whatever they want -"

"Darling, that's human nature for you. I mean, come on, really. Can you seriously be saying shit like that? Little kids are fine with taking cookies out of the jar when they're not supposed to as long as they don't get caught! Teenage boys will jack off as much as they want to as long as their moms don't ask them about those suspicious stains - not that there's anything wrong with getting used to your own hand, mind you. People are fine with doing things they know they shouldn't do as long as they aren't caught, because more often than not, they won't feel guilty unless somebody knows. It's just how we work."

"Well. I never thought of it that way."

"Yes, I doubted you did."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

Does it matter? You and I both know this won't last longer than two weeks.