Tags: standing_at_the_edge_of


*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.



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).