Micah and I went out last night. A pretty uneventful evening, but this morning Micah decided that her and I should do a writing exercise. So, given five minutes, this is what we wrote. Also, I love my friends.
Micah:
Eyeliner running into my lipstick
I almost died today
The collision of my brain and body was too much to handle,
As is the collision of my heart
and logic
I try to play it by the book
But whose book is it?
I've never questioned this
It's a man's book
Man's prose that says it's wrong to share your crazy lady
emotions
Compose yourself woman
Don't be tormented by mixed signals
Play the game
Get ahead
Flirt with his friends
Maintain your facade
Your ink's running out
The game's over and I'm crazy
Me:
I swallow your name two drinks into the night.
Three drinks in, and your face becomes a blur.
I can finally breathe from not thinking about the way your sugar-burnt eyes sear into mine.. between the soft of my thighs.
Four drinks in and I've drowned out your voice with too-loud music and the scraping of bar stools and girls laughing themselves sick with want for men who are no good.
You're no good.
Five drinks in and I'm rock n' roll. Hair tucked behind red-tipped ears and a smile like it's fucking Christmas.
I'm dancing--arms raised, half-lidded, ridiculous.
And if I could feel anything, think anything, I'd think about how marvelous it is to be numb.
Blissfully fucking numb.
Just let me have this.
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