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katie-doodle
American I've lived in the SF Bay Area my whole life and I'd be lying if I denied that my liberal upbringing/ surroundings had more than less influence on my writing. / I write like I speak, explicitly. / I love constructive criticism.
This is our apartment; Finally, a space all our own. We moved in on a Tuesday Just to the outskirts of town. This is our table Where so many stories will be shared, And to go along with it We'll exchange the futon for a few chairs. This is our couch Where we will read our favorite books, Nothing to interrupt us But the exchange of seductive looks. This is our kitchen Where I'll make him the finest fare. Every evening on the table by six Before we eat, we'll say our prayer. This is our bed Where our fiery passions ignite. We fall asleep in each others arms Beneath scattered rays of moonlight. This is our apartment We've been here five months and all is fine. My parents visit on Wednesdays He's drinking his third glass of wine. This is our table We eat here every day. Perhaps in a few years This is where our children will play. This is our couch My reading has become unbothered. I mention my hopes for the future He assures me he'll never be a father. This is our kitchen Dinner is quite the affair. I set down the final plate For me, he pulls out my chair. This is our bed A bit cooler than before. Our ********** has become scheduled And, frankly, something of a bore. This is our apartment We've lived here for a year. He says he must stay late at the office When he's home he stinks of beer. This is our table The stories are getting fewer. I ask him if it's something I did He walks away to the shower. This is our couch Where I am the only one who sits; Occasionally my safe haven To avoid his resentful fits. This is our kitchen Where he drinks most of his meals. After all those long table talks I no longer know how he feels. This is our bed Even colder than it was last year. He rolls over and touches my arm I don't dare move from fear. This is his apartment I've packed my final suitcase. One last walk through memory lane And I'm finally leaving this place. This is his table Where dinner parties were held. Where countless stories were told And countless more withheld. This is his couch Where my hopes and dreams were shattered. This is his Merlot I'm spilling on it To remind him none of this matters. This is his kitchen Where I threw the bowl of sauce The night he came home at 3AM Following a meeting with his boss. This is his bed Once dirtied with frenzied devotion. Now so neat, tidy and ironed Lacking any and all emotion. This is the clock We didn't notice time passing by. Before we had noticed ten years had passed And I'm in love with a different guy.
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
Stages
This is our apartment; Finally, a space all our own. We moved in on a Tuesday Just to the outskirts of town. This is our table Where so many stories will be shared, And to go along with it We'll exchange the futon for a few chairs. This is our couch Where we will read our favorite books, Nothing to interrupt us But the exchange of seductive looks. This is our kitchen Where I'll make him the finest fare. Every evening on the table by six Before we eat, we'll say our prayer. This is our bed Where our fiery passions ignite. We fall asleep in each others arms Beneath scattered rays of moonlight. This is our apartment We've been here five months and all is fine. My parents visit on Wednesdays He's drinking his third glass of wine. This is our table We eat here every day. Perhaps in a few years This is where our children will play. This is our couch My reading has become unbothered. I mention my hopes for the future He assures me he'll never be a father. This is our kitchen Dinner is quite the affair. I set down the final plate For me, he pulls out my chair. This is our bed A bit cooler than before. Our ********** has become scheduled And, frankly, something of a bore. This is our apartment We've lived here for a year. He says he must stay late at the office When he's home he stinks of beer. This is our table The stories are getting fewer. I ask him if it's something I did He walks away to the shower. This is our couch Where I am the only one who sits; Occasionally my safe haven To avoid his resentful fits. This is our kitchen Where he drinks most of his meals. After all those long table talks I no longer know how he feels. This is our bed Even colder than it was last year. He rolls over and touches my arm I don't dare move from fear. This is his apartment I've packed my final suitcase. One last walk through memory lane And I'm finally leaving this place. This is his table Where dinner parties were held. Where countless stories were told And countless more withheld. This is his couch Where my hopes and dreams were shattered. This is his Merlot I'm spilling on it To remind him none of this matters. This is his kitchen Where I threw the bowl of sauce The night he came home at 3AM Following a meeting with his boss. This is his bed Once dirtied with frenzied devotion. Now so neat, tidy and ironed Lacking any and all emotion. This is the clock We didn't notice time passing by. Before we had noticed ten years had passed And I'm in love with a different guy.
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A kiss from you took my breath away And where are you now? You’ve gone astray You’ve left me here alone In a small, miserable town Left with nothing but a frown I wish I’d never known you You took my smile away I wish I’d never loved you For all you did was take and run away In a matter of seconds My love turned to indifference I’m left here without a means of existence I’m hurting badly But you’re too blinded to see The promises you’d broken to me Every time you touched me Every embrace we shared Was just another lie Of how much you didn’t care I’m sure you’ve replaced me now In your heart and in your mind How foolish was I to truly believe I was your only valentine Was it all an act? Every time we that held hands Or made love? Was it a clever ruse? Did you mean to leave me Broken and abused? When you said “I love you” Did you mean a single word? Or was the idea of loving me Something so absurd? You cut me very deeply Nothing will stop the pain Every new drop of crimson blood I’ll bleed until you leave my brain The saddest thing of all Is that I cannot stop loving you Try as I might to fight this affliction You have brought upon me I still miss sleeping next to you Feeling your breath upon my neck And your lips across my cheek Why won’t you let me be? Why did you take my piece of mind So far away from me?
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
What You've Taken Away From Me
A kiss from you took my breath away And where are you now? You’ve gone astray You’ve left me here alone In a small, miserable town Left with nothing but a frown I wish I’d never known you You took my smile away I wish I’d never loved you For all you did was take and run away In a matter of seconds My love turned to indifference I’m left here without a means of existence I’m hurting badly But you’re too blinded to see The promises you’d broken to me Every time you touched me Every embrace we shared Was just another lie Of how much you didn’t care I’m sure you’ve replaced me now In your heart and in your mind How foolish was I to truly believe I was your only valentine Was it all an act? Every time we that held hands Or made love? Was it a clever ruse? Did you mean to leave me Broken and abused? When you said “I love you” Did you mean a single word? Or was the idea of loving me Something so absurd? You cut me very deeply Nothing will stop the pain Every new drop of crimson blood I’ll bleed until you leave my brain The saddest thing of all Is that I cannot stop loving you Try as I might to fight this affliction You have brought upon me I still miss sleeping next to you Feeling your breath upon my neck And your lips across my cheek Why won’t you let me be? Why did you take my piece of mind So far away from me?
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
What You've Taken Away From Me
Before we met How many times did we pass by Each other on the street? How many times did we Stop at the same stop light Or wave the other on in traffic? How many times had we Ordered coffee from the same barista Within minutes of the other? How often did we ride The same BART train Or think the same thing About a person we walked past On our way to work? How many friends did we share If any at all? Before we met Did you ever notice me hailing a cab Or search my bag for loose change? Did I ever give you a ***** look When you laughed grotesquely With your friends As my own guild slinked by? Before we met Had you ever considered Renting an apartment in my building? Did you ever pet my cat on the street Or lazily glace through my Living room window as you Waited for the light to turn green? Did I ever see you At the delicatessen Where I eat my lunch? Before we met Had we ever met before?
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Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
We've Met
**** you. You are nothing. You are disgusting. You are pathetic. Does a woman Have to be drunk In order for you To get laid? You are a coward. You are wretched. You ***** me. You took advantage Of a child Passed out. Blacked out, And defenseless. Because of you, I cannot trust. Because of you, I cannot feel. Because of you, I fear every man's Intentions. Because of you, I was ***** And for that, I say **** you!"
0
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 2:13 AM UTC
**** You!
When a woman is ***** She hides from the cynical eyes. I went to work Made idle chitchat Wrote copays. Most women avoid *** And cringe at the thought of ******** I take part in *** compulsively Crave male attention I'm engaged nearly every night. Some go to meetings To share their struggles. I don't want to hear your problems Do not wish to share my own I offer no support nor input. **** victims are fragile They break fairly easily. I do not break Nor do I crack I just am. I do not fit the description Of victim nor survivor. I question myself daily Was it **** Or an overreaction? Most women cry They seek comfort They long for understanding And justice. I do not. Am I a victim too? A survivor? Neurotic? Anyone?
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Jun 18, 2010
Jun 18, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
What a Victim Does...
I just feel so frustrated, I can't focus at work because I'm constantly fixating on our most recent argument. I don't feel listened to; and when I don't believe everything you believe or talk about I feel judged and criticized by you. I'm tired of being the mature one. I'm tired of waiting around. If you mention threesomes or DMT one more time, I'm pretty sure I'll go ape **** on everyone. Am I not allowed to have taboo topics? Everyone has some subject they don't like talking about or feel uncomfortable talking about. Why can't you understand it? Why do you insist on talking about the very things I've expressed less than no interest in? Why do you question everything I say? Why do you make me explain myself when what I've already expressed was all I wanted to say on the matter. We're not going in the same directions. I don't mind occasionally just sitting around smoking until I'm too lazy to move... sometimes. But it feels like that's all we do anymore. I need more excitement and spontaneity. Lately all we do is smoke and **** And argue. I'm sick of arguing. Mostly because I know you're not listening. And I'm sick of being ignored.
0
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 4:54 PM UTC
Sick
I'm in your thoughts I'm in your mind I'm that little voice inside your head Go on, Try and hide You're not safe Inside your house Don't worry, baby boy I'm quiet Like a fuckin' mouse I'm tricky, tricky You don't stand a chance Cause you got the wrong girl mad I love you But I loathe you And **** can get pretty bad
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Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 10:06 PM UTC
Abhor v. Adore?
A swig from my glass melts my troubles away Takes away the frustrations of today What can I say, what can I say? At least with liquid gold, it's a better day My boss is a **** that's what I say This is a better route, at least for me, anyway I don't have time to kneel and pray When liquid gold is an arm's length away My thirst is not for Ocean Spray I'm not hungry so what's the use of buffet? I'd much rather kick back and play With my liquid gold, I could spend all day
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Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 7:27 PM UTC
Liquid Gold
I want to tell you All these secrets inside I wish to scream them to the heavens I do not like to hide A relationship Where comebacks are all we speak How can I express to you This truth that leaves me weak? We've had so many opportunities But never spoke a word Never wrote a note Never struck a chord Am I the one to blame? I built these walls so high Story after story Lie after lie after lie I've only told the truth When it became an absolute must I want to let you in But fear your lack of trust Now you say you want to know The things inside my head Do you really? I think you don't I think you'd rather be dead For you to know what I've become For you to see what I am Just another animated statistic Another young lost lamb I know you want to be there To heal the wounds I'll hide But you cannot handle this world I've created in my mind Mother, tell me now What it is you want to hear I won't offer this information The truth is what we fear The truth is what you fear
0
Mar 12, 2010
Mar 12, 2010 at 9:13 PM UTC
Mother