Tags: standing_at_the_edge_of

50

*bows to Jess*

Standing at the edge of literature, and dirty limericks. I watch young girls with eye lids painted blue, and think to myself, "I really hope I die before I get that old." The consistent chaos I feed into has been taking a back seat to the head-over-heels quality of my discreet, vicarious beauty. I figure when I'm done reading Watership Down, I'll start up Lolita. Do you think Smith College will take a girl this weird?
    Stop pushing me, sweetheart, I'm well passed the edge. This is a mountain, not an envelope. You are not a stamp, nor a fine point pen; I am certainly no name worth sending letters to. I told you, babe, this sandy peek is too thin for me. The air is too much like my weight; my skin, holding me together, but letting you tear me apart. I'm a greeting card, but I don't really want to fall (because falling would be validation of the ennui you put me through.) Shh, look out the window. There's those girls again; the one with the pretty eyes looks through my window, but only on Tuesday (when I look for her.) They look like the magazine covers at a bookstore, waiting to be picked up. Saturday I think I'll lower myself to their level, just to see if you notice. Lord knows on Sunday I'll be too exhausted, and proud to fucking care about you.

topic!

okay.

so here i am. your goddess-like co-mod is exerting her powers that be. ;)

As of 3.25.04

write something using the phrase "standing at the edge of _______," filling in the blank with your own word/phrase/etc.



&, if any of you will be testing for the SAT on saturday, i wish you luck (this coming from a gal who knows she is going to fail every section of math on that sucker).