One who elicits a desired chemical combination

Which is difficult given that pixels are not as able to deposit copious amounts of what produces those neurochemical con jobs that bring about the insanity, temporary for those that have a modicum of control, that know that holding on and keeping your eyes open to watch the madness is better than completely giving in

But I digress

All the rest fell, leaving a trail of tears to diminish that atrocity because my white female sub heart is more valued than any other kind of heart, what with who I think I am and the joy I bring by offering to serve you in ways I see fit, not dependent upon reality or virtuality while you do as you see and i do as i do and i cry girl tears that slowly crawl down my face and i long for a word

But I digress

I demand of myself the actions that I would demand of no others and i leave a trail of burning bridges, smoke rising slowly, sending signals of please and no but i won't ask for a thing of you or shameful verbalizations of what i like, because a heart guarded is the best kind of heart, that I let you touch, I let you take out and toy with but i always hold the key and lock it up after a volley of words and i never say one word and i never will

But I digress

You fell for sweet and you fell for kind and i get where you fall for that bs because that's fun to hurt and make the sweet baby girls cry and kittens just hiss and sputter and only let you get a pet in before they bite you with sharp dagger teeth and sharp dagger words before they flick their tail and walk off

But I digress

I let you take up space in my head for far too long but I'm not sure I'm ready to evict you. Just the thought of dragging out those boxes means giving up and going forward, leaving your dusty ass behind to do...well, whatever it is you do as I've hardened myself to that phrase

It's really moving forward

I gave in, good girl too soon, too often, and yet not enough. I let an unguarded me go against a fully guarded you, all done up in shining armor, really a tinfoil fool whose actions and words and gestures were grand, whose acts were badass, whose look is carefully prescribed, painstakingly distressed, handwritten calligraphy vulnerabilities, shared as proffered rare gift when the value was prescribed to be none, a blue book value of one.

It's really just accounting

I undervalued myself and overvalued you, as i am wont to do, whem i decide I am due for that invariable bad choice, that subconscious desire to make someone my next bad d decision and I do the numbers, a cost benefit analysis, and i see again that I can derive not much from you when it all came from me. You were transfigured and transposed, made into art and a mirage, beckoning promise, declaring yet another adoration but i didn't see, that transmutation.

It's really just lying to myself

Romantic notion intertwined with sordid reality is the nemesis, little crowds that peck at your brain, but crows are smarter and nicer, murder pack to watch your back, and bring you shiny baubles which are worth more than those imaginary foibles

Dreaming in technicolor fantasies of daddies and princess tulle, hold me, spoil me, only me, saccharine sweetness that in no way measures out to real he, as when he's balls deep he's not thinking of your sweet feelings, it's all animal and less evolved.

Don't fool yourself, little girls and little boys, daddy isn't kind, daddy is soft and trying to assert but through fallacy and misdirection, phallic prestidigitation, runs his score, wanna be big man thinking small

It could all be so much better, not having to pretend that this is what it is, a mere flash in the pan, but a harsh moment that holds up to the light without having to worry about ruining the mirage, the good man oasis

it's all just fantasy

Open your eyes

only we could control every experience

while remaining truly powerless

We walk around with shopping lists and recipes

I want this, a dash of that

Age weight hair height eyes voice demands

Me me me, controlled ennui

Thinking this is how we do things

How we ask for loss while only gain

Their needs nothing next to our want

We hate the men

We hate the women

While we place our a la carte

Orders upon demand

While wishing

To be ordered upon demand

Beat me free me,

my Adonis of my mind

We're only a brave new world away

From Narcissus staring at a screen

Black mirror bleak mind

.

You're the pixels of my dreams

Prince charming

She sighs into Skype

.

Let her do that clean up work

Diplomatic duties

Worry about your whereabouts

Why her charms aren't working

Why digital pussy dont keep you put

.

Don't you know how many bytes

She's consumed, of you,

How many gigs she's browsed

Looking for trails of your nuts

Squirrelly girl insecure

.

Her hell is my fun

Emotional maso on tap

Choose me now

Go away

Don't get close

Let me hang

And choke

.

Never satisfies

The buzz goes fast

But I remind myself

Drag it out

The fool keeps

one in her heart

The one who knows

Keeps a few

.

The absence of something that was threatened to be withheld but interest was lost or couldn't maintain the need for nothing once given something. Stupid girl, who would beg for nothing from someone who is nothing yet she wants him to be something. Not even her something.

Not anything like those other girls. She knows the effect of transferring and projecting desires and expectations onto another person. At least if she disperses them, the fallout is minimal, tiny little mushroom clouds that give off so little poison for one who thrives on the taste of it.

It's a cobbling together of nothing from someone who wants nothing and yet just a little something. Give just a little, something to feed off of, something to drive towards the nothing, which is yet the something.

The truth is I don’t want him watching me while I eat. I don’t want him to see my hunger. If you have a need and they find it out, they will use it against you. The best way is to stop from wanting anything.

~Margaret Atwood, "Alias Grace"

I hold myself still, in check

It's not that i never admit want or hunger, but only what i give you. What you haven't tried to wrest away from me, those apples given are not but little formalities, doled out graciously so that I should take them, to keep the doctor away, who might fix what ails or just stumble around and make it worse.

I see what he's after. He is a collector. He thinks all he has to do is give me an apple, and then he can collect me.

But I don't see what he's after. He makes no attempt to wrest from me more than i am willing to give, which he waits for me to do so that it is given freely as i force myself to admit to my own desire. Chess of sorts, trading apples and snippets, a lack of wine and whippets, chemicals to absolve and transfer blame for hunger but instead it's black and white.

A surprising lack of clarity perhaps, He plans his moves, an in the moment lack of planning as planning is artifice and lacks substance, based on ephermal thoughts and expectations. Trying to sit on a cloud and expecting to remain on solid ground while seeing cherubim and seraphim as the conspirators in the madness.

I move unconsciously horizontal, he moves diagonally, at once to shorten the distance and hasten escape. The spaces blur and the rules of engagement change but there's no more red queen on the horizon. The white queen that emblazoned in red has gone for tea, up the rabbit hole again, off for more apples. Feed me, drink me. "Make me feel like poison exists in my veins, my time is short and my moves are broadcast. "

Let her be rescued by the rabbit. Let her chase time. I've crossed across the tales and gone from delusion of imagined reality to the unreliable narrator of a supposed truth, one I will never really know. Is it what i classify it that makes it different, is it the perspective or the words chosen? Does it even matter, but to the one who reads it for now, i who keep only bits and pieces stored away, patchwork to use as i unreliably narrate my truth and i hide an apple in my skirt and yet one in my heart, as a stone

It's easier to be nameless, to not be a specific thing to anyone. It allows one to disappear within the very non defined nature of a not-thing. One doesn't have to follow prescribed rules of normal engagement, one doesnt need to bare the soul or open the heart because there is no obligation defined by role.

One can choose freely and clearly where one wants to be. Frightening sometimes to be without a safety net of naming. There is power in names and there are expectations. To walk away from naming is to let all the power in naming be null and void.

Awkward and difficult to navigate sometimes. Frequently or usually, some might argue, but it is really dealing with one's own insecurities and doubt, letting the woobie of expectation go. My safety blanket burns while i struggle to keep my head afloat some days.

I'm becoming a mighty strong swimmer though longer and longer I can hold my breath, walk away from the firm foundation of the shore and the sure. I like the struggle and i like examining my doubt, and finding that extra store of breath when i was certain that water was too deep.

i dont belong to anyone

The myth is they are sad lonely women, just waiting to prey on poor unsuspecting faithful men. Can't get their own, have to steal, homewrecking harlot. Trollop, hussy, bad girl.

Like these men are innocent. As long as there is a roamer with a hard on, we will exist. We dont want happily ever after. We don't want the kind of love yall have, that long term warts and all. No, thank you.

We want the best parts, the juicy parts. Parts you see but have to temper with the smelly shoes and shitty attitudes. You get those because obligation. We are choice.

Slam on the easy side piece. We don't give two shits. Not like we are gonna stop. Not like it means anything to whatever your man says to me.

* Lamentations

Woe is me is ode to me

I beg, i plead, i cry invisible wolf

My tragedy is your new baggage

Manifested twice the size

These tears, they fall

Down my lovely face

Come let me drown you

In a sea of my own making

victim me, sad me, lonely me

*Adorations

How they are wise and fine

The apple of mine eye

Whispers and withers

I sing your odes

On my own belljar

Sea glass never cuts

but mine ass will

love me like i love

or woe is you

*Aspirations

Houses and futures

i dream of collars and rings

yes, Sir forevers but

i've already enshrined you

In my golden tower

imaginary you

will never leave

odes for days

and no more play

*Proclamations

The insecure or maybe

The imaginative

Descartes implied

i am we are because

Mountain tops, we scream

banners high, hearts held tight

dont take flight

stay and love me

I protesteth too much