Faucet Monologue

I sat there with Darry and Two-Bit and most of the rest of the guys. We all watched TV. We didn’t say anything for the most part, but we all knew what we were all thinking about: Johnny and Dally. There was a loud smashing sound from Soda and mine’s room. I was the only one to get up. The others were too zoned out on the TV and inside of their thoughts. I slowly walked over to the room with the door closed. “Soda?” I called. The others only turned after they heard me. This couldn’t happen to me again. Not again.

Something involving chorus. He returned and could instantly tell you were hungry. There were handfuls of paper towels in his hand while there was a room spray in the other. He acted like the smell was so familiar to him, seeming as though he wasn't gagging at the smell of it.

I would hold my hand against my lips and tell myself how his eyes followed me. How it smelled like the dumpster behind school on the first Wednesday of summer. How concrete scratched its way through my soles, 30% off running shoes and all. I would tell myself how the smoke on your breath smelled like oak and incense and old ink and old words. Like church. Like i was confessing something. How i bowed my head to the cross that was his arms entangled, to his too proud lether and denim and half yellow skin.

y Boyfriend’s Slap I taste stale coins and wet words; my lip cracks like blistering sidewalks midsummer. There’s a country song buzzing worlds away, low static radio bleeding love songs while my love song grips my hair by the roots, keeps me spitting static pink blood into an industrial sink, sings Baby, won’t you be my summer night? the slick slide of his tongue hot in my ear, strong fingers dug in tight like five hungry hyenas. His hand trails down and down the knobs of my spine, buried under bruising flesh; with the stars above us he croons, yellow light above the stove flickering erratically, mosquitoes panicking as the glow grows warmer, the lightbulb straining like my wick is shrinking; inevitability is a quiet thief.

The worst night came after my mom left us. Why she didn’t take me, I’ll never understand. It was almost as if she’d left me for dead; the result of her absence had an obvious consequence. I wish I didn’t have to take her place, but I did, and now I know how his words feel, stabbing you repeatedly. I know how his hands feel, leaving imprints on my face. I know how her

I knew the moment I walked in and saw him standing there that we were going to make love- fierce angry love… the knowledge caused me to moisten

You don't remember how you got those bruises. But you remember they stung; each gaze felt like a dagger prodding at your wounds, at your BROKEN PRIDE. You remember all those little things, but you CAN'T REMEMBER the most important ones. Your mother's favorite red dress and pearl earrings are still fresh in your memory as if she were standing right in front you, yet her face is blurred and scratched out like an old photo.

Five weeks without talking to you, five weeks without your touch, your voice, your eyes staring into mine, and that cocky smirk that you always wore on your face that I always fought the urge to wipe off.

"My sweet sweet love," he said with some love," I thought death would be more swifter then to be whipped the daylight of you. I'm sorry for thinking like that." I could feel his muscles thence as he spoke. Almost like he was hopeful for something. None of them spoke the only thing that I could hear was the water beating on the mud floor of my cell.

I hear rhythems in my head, as I'm lying here in bed. I can't help but think of you, my head is spinning around the room. The times we spend together, the words we say to each other, it's all spinning through my head, the feeling I hold for you.

At first I started back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification”

My blood begins to thin, as my vision starts to spin… “I guess I should have stopped”, .. As my limp body dropped.. Cut my Soul in Half I observe my previous tries, My unseen hurt and earlier cries. I couldn’t hold back,

Suddenly I could feel my infernal demise, echoes of my own anguished screams of torment. I could feel as the heat melted my flesh from my bones. I closed my eyes tight, welcoming the silence of death soon to come. I yearned for my suffering to end, and yet an end did not come. Suddenly my anguish transformed into a worse pain. I opened my eyes to find myself staring into the huge crimson eyes of the beast that was tearing my flesh from my bones with it's

I started taking even, deep breathes, and I felt it begin to loosen up. It felt strange; like something cold was flowing through me, through my veins, into every piece of me. I felt calm for the first time in awhile. That was when I felt something damp hit my face.

My memories stopped the day I leave you in back home. You were looking at me and it was perceptible that you were breaking into pieces. If you heard that song you would realize that how beautifully our story was told by someone in his song long ago before our relationship even exists.