Posted by marko on 12/26/2006, 8:25 am this is for all the promises & hearts broken. this is for all i’ve only bought one woman flowers in my entire life. i’ve scene 50 i’m beginning to believe there’s a hole burned through my if you want to continue to live in this house then you’ll get i apologize. i know i said i’d be right back. aren’t you even
65.167.39.231
scene 48
the lies. this is for those who didn’t answer, or didn’t
return my calls, or cut the conversation abruptly because
they had something more important that needed taken care
of. this is for all those i told i’d call but i didn’t. either
because i didn’t think it was worth remembering, or i was
too busy, or i was involved with someone else but failed to
mention it. this is for those who said they’d always love me,
always be there for me when i needed them. that they’d
never forget me. that i was the best they ever had. this is
for those who i swore that they could always count on me.
that our time together was more precious than any. that
they were really too much, & i’d never felt this way before.
& they were the best i ever had too. this is for those who
laid a judas kiss on me, but it felt like any other. that left me
waiting for something, anything. this is for those i kissed
goodbye, knowing it was over but never giving a reason.
because after all, they’d do the same to me.
scene 49
written some poems & passionate love letters. as a teenager
i gave a poem to a girl & told her i wrote it, but it actually
the lyrics to a song. not a popular song though. one i was sure
she’s never heard. later i found out the one she’d given me
was a song also. it was top forty popular at the time. but i
was too cool for radio except for one station that was what
they call free-form radio now. i’ve written songs for women
& girls. i’ve found them the most effective, & make more
of an impression than other art form. i wrote one song when
i was around eighteen that was rather beautiful i thought.
one of the few “love songs” i’ve ever written. i told three or
four women that i’d written it especially for them. i know
what you’re thinking—you’re right. but at least i own up
to it now. & in a way i felt it was for them when i sang it.
& haven’t you ever done something similar?
stomach. i think its growing larger too. because i take
more & more, but can’t seem to kick in a good nod. & i
drink more but i can’t relax, & don’t feel comfortable
with myself most of the time. i think i know how it got
there. i think i have no one but myself to blame. it’s so
much easier when i can lash out—if not in person, then
in my writing. but when there is no one else, it just sits
there until it begins to feel as if it’s sucking all the life
out of me. it becomes necessary to see the light, to realize
what you’re doing to yourself, & you might be killing
yourself. & you want to quit but you can’t do it on your
own. & there’s no one to turn to. & that’s not an excuse,
though you admit you have many excuses, & you’ve grown
very adept at fooling yourself nearly every day. saying
tomorrow i’ll change. but you don’t change. & you truly need
someone who will love you enough to make you choose.
scene 51
your hair cut. no more arguments. no more putting it off.
you know where long hair came from don’t you—homosexuals,
that’s where. you want to look like one of them. you want
people to think you’re a faggot. i know you don’t care. you
don’t care about anything do you? you’re going to enlist
as soon as you graduate. that is, if you do graduate. that’ll
make a man out of you. i had a cousin who was a sissy until
he went into the marines. but when he came home he was
a man. stay out of the beer in the basement. if you can’t afford
your own then don’t drink. are you smoking marijuana up in
your room? it doesn’t smell like cherry blend cigars to me.
if i ever see you touch him again i’ll kill you. i don’t care
if you were just picking him up. keep your hands off him.
where are you getting the money to buy this crap? i don’t
want to see any of them in this house again. because they’re
troublemakers. bunch a god damn hippies, i don’t care
what the hell they call them now. they’re all bad news. &
don’t you think i don’t about those little whores you’re
always sneaking into the garage. what you’re doing on that
old couch back there. if you get one of them pregnant it’s
your responsibility.
scene 52
going to listen to what i have to say? well, forget it then. it’s
not an excuse—it’s an explanation. & it’s true—every word.
but if you don’t want to hear it there’s nothing i can do. i
can’t force you to listen. will you please stop screaming. you’re
making my eardrum contract. no, i’m not high. my eyes are
always red & glassy like that. i’m surprised you never noticed
it. you’re one to talk. who polished off that bottle on the coffee
table? how would you know—you said you’d never done it.
you’re your father’s daughter all right. because he’s an asshole.
what? you’re bad-mouthing him all the time. but i’m not allowed
to say anything? when you wake up sober in the morning you’ll
be sorry. you’ll realize what a b###h you were. don’t be ####ing
slapping me. one of these days i’m going to give it right back
to you. have me arrested for what? i haven’t done anything.
i wasn’t threatening you. you’re the one that’s all ####ed up.
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