Faster Pussycat Kill! Kill!
Super Vixen 1975
The Big Doll House 1971
To read is to fly: it is to soar to a point of vantage which gives a view over wide terrains of history, human variety, ideas, shared experience and the fruits of many inquiries.”
- A C Grayling, Financial Times (in a review of A History of Reading by Alberto Manguel)
Please visit our Wordpress blog:
It’s because the wind looks purple outside,
and your hands are shaking,
and you’re feeling like you stole 23 tablets of ecstasy from your best friend,
you’re feeling like you tried to digest them all at once
But your best friend has never known an intoxicated day,
has never possessed anything worse than a cold lime and warm sprite
There is no reasoning for this,
for your shaking hands
But your swear his eyes are lilac,
just a shade lighter than the weather
You should run, little girl,
has no one ever told you?
You’ll need to grab onto what it is that made you fall
to get up from that crash
It’s horrible when your heart is somewhere your body is not.
The beauty of image does not serve me well anymore.
Beauty is a false weapon, made to make us feel special and different and precious but I am not those things, I am broken like my family of 5, two half siblings on my father, twice divorced, one sister from my mother and one sister and me from both. Parents divorced. domestic violence, drug abuse, high school drop out, teen suicide (attempts), abortions, STIs, jobless, houseless, moneyless but I am not less.
I used the work broken, not negatively, but as a fact. Neither good or bad, fact.
Fact. We were given beauty as if we were not already.
Foundation because we dont want people to see that red dot on our face because it is so detrimental to our health and well being and humans. Fiction. Sarcasm.
Also what do humans do to beautiful things? Flowers, grow them to cut them and display them in thier houses void of any life becuase they dont see it in themselves. Then they die and human buy new cut flowers. And they cycle continues.
And our water, pollute it with our junk because we can, because no one cares anymore. Not even me sometimes. Because nobody knows or gives a shit because they are so concern about how trendy they are and if they look the best they are or if i am walking straight or where should i look when walking past someone on the street and its just the two of us and i see you and you see me, dont pretend i dont exist, and i wont pretend that i dont know you are pretending and really we are both fucking idiots who dont know how to communicate because we are scared