"g u i l t

hangs as heavy as the white dress resting on my door


to be worn just one more time

(it's just one more lie, dear)

and he's shaking,

fingers itching to curl around my throat

hang me with my words;


it's never what he thinks


it's never how it seems


to him it's all the same.

'Our apologies never did mean much, my love.'"

1:10 pm 4/24/2006

A.N: my goddess, can I do nothing right here lately??