Elena Espinoza ([email protected])
Mon, 10 Aug 1998 23:09:56 -0500 (CDT)
like taking a hammer and turning it around so that the sharp
part of it strikes full force into the heart, piercing,
puncturing, blunt and clumsy and devastating.
that's what it used to be--The Song live, fucking blood
everywhere, just pouring profusely and indiscriminately,
begging for a tourniquet or a hand to stop the hole
from bleeding.
BUHT.
now, at times, it's "so just forget george for tonight!" and "hello?
Hello? HELLO???" so that i can close my eyes and feel bubbles near
my heart, but of laughter, because i'm slowly learning that life
is okay (a-ha).....or ha-ha, i guess. but even that's not right.
say after me: it's no better to be safe than sorry.
and even that has been left behind in that mold that threatened
a lifetime of hammering only to be bent slightly out of shape.
no longer.
what's wrong is november 12, 1992 in vegas (let's get married...
for a while...), that it exists, that it could exist in the face
of birmingham on october 7, 1992 (i got no time to call the
president). "through the stars and the breeze...." and everything
begins to get hazy, unattainable, scared (like shitless). and
this time the whole is bleeding, and a tired annoyance settles into
the very spirit of the spectator, and confusion reigns and rains,
and i sit there (ON THE FUCKING "EL" AGAIN), wondering if god said,
"let there be jokes!" and a whole lot of us were born.
ah, but it has to be a simple case of misunderstanding, nothing
but a young soul, still wandering about, not quite convinced
that in order to achieve heaven, it has to leave behind earth.
heaven knows what i believe,
elena
***********************************
All I...all I really need
Is to know that you believe that
"I Would Die 4 U" (Prince)
----------------------------------
Like nicotine....I need your love.
"Hawkmoon 269"
***********************************
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.0b2 on Mon Aug 10 1998 - 21:12:53 PDT