oneword: discipline

go ahead, disciples. follow the line. it curves and breaks and cuts back and forth and while you have an idea as to where you are headed, there is no clue in sight that you'll actually get there.

oneword: discipline

correct me. punish me. whatever. i learned a long time ago that the best way to get along with you is to ignore you. your discipline held me back from finding out what the world is really like, from finding me. turns out i was hidden somewhere in the dark corner of that claustrophobic cage.

sometimes i hate myself when i am around you, because i never meet your expectations. i have tried to create a life for myself that stacks up to the frame you tried to shove me into.

and the really sad part is that i can't remember the last time you said you were proud of me.

instead, all i can recall are the things i've worked my ass off to forget.

oneword: few

i'm sure that someone out there would start off with "few people know how to love, how to be kind to one another, how to *insert your own fucking mindless cliche about how we are SUPPOSED to be*...."

but those reek with undertones of optimism. the hope that someone, somewhere out there has their shit together. and right now, i'd much rather tell you that too few people even ACT like people anymore...which makes me a hypocrite. because, yes, i am suggesting that there is still some good out there.

that's the problem with "few." you keep plugging along, hoping someone will change your mind.

oneword: few

few have really seen these words. read them. bothered to figure out what any of the vagueness is referring to. my underbelly is pink and plush, full of secret loves, hopes and dreams that i am too afraid to share with most. because most just blow them off.

maybe they are too scared too.

oneword: aisle

all eyes on me. step, together. step, together. "isn't this what you've wanted, what you've dreamed about your entire life?"

but his face is blank and i want to run. i am boxed in by their wall of smiles, pushed ever closer to a stranger who i am supposed to accept is the ONE.

the one time i inserted a face, a smiling, crying, happy groom...yes, all just an empty dream.

and the bells? they sound like a dirge.

oneword: plus

plus-sized, big fat bloated eyes ready for juicing, squeezing love and life and moments of gazing at me. reflections of intentions i have dance around those laugh lines you smirk away carelessly. you ask me how my song goes. truth is, i already knew the words... but not the melody. at least, not until you played it for me.