Shadow

The light has exorcised a demon that colors the pavement, my wall, the flesh of a stranger, and even my own flesh.  He lives inside a prison that is structured according to my bones, muscles, and organs. Light is the only being who wants him to escape.

As the sun rises, the energy of the light tears through the prison and liberates the prisoner.  He is two-dimensional and exists on the surface where the population thrives.  He follows me everywhere I go, walking with the population of demons following their creators on the pavement.  The figure progresses into a darker character as the sun dies down, eventually returning to the prison he belongs in.  On some nights, he refuses to go back to the prison in favor of merging with the natural darkness.  The sun travels the planet to liberate other prisoners like himself.

He plans to haunt me.  He is an unwanted personality that no other human shall meet.  He is the dark side of my being that lives  on my wall and won’t stop staring at me.  He is the unwanted personality not even I wanted to meet.  I digress from my plan to alleviate the room from the lights that keep him alive because I know he will return in some form or another.  He is a villain that will haunt me for the rest of my life, serving his sentence until my dying day.

One day I will rest in peace because there is no light six feet deep.

My Time as a Creeper at the Campus Library

I thought that I would delve into some independent detective work without actually joining the police force. Well, this isn’t really detective work, but I’ve got my eye hawking over the student population as they stumble and weep through the campus library. Watching these specimens stagger about the building was like watching the three leads in The Blair Witch Project: they couldn’t find their way out and were always peering behind their shoulders to see if another academic assignment was going to jump them. While this really isn’t detective work, the dangers of getting shot on the job are still very real. My calculations indicate a student is likely to pull out a handgun and pop his homework like it was the Notorious B.I.G. sitting at a stoplight in L.A. Let’s see if we can get a closer look. My data has been compiled over the span of 45 measly minutes, although I’ve ascertained that it only takes 3.9 seconds to observe the onset of a mental breakdown.

Objective: Observe the behavior of students studying for mid-terms and completing other assignments. Afterwards, predict the score they’ll achieve on said mid-term(s) and homework assignments.

Location: 2nd floor of the campus library. This floor is designated as the “group study” floor, meaning conversation is permitted.

Subject #1: A female studying the differences between DNA and RNA. She has occupied an iMac desktop to examine the exhaustive details of our genetic makeup. A hot cup of stimulants, otherwise known to the general population as coffee, has been employed to assist her in her quest to conquer the material. A noticeable pattern emerged as she engaged with the task at hand. I deciphered this pattern as: Study roughly 12 seconds worth of notes, check cellular device for text messages and other notifications, study again for short period of time, then check cellular device for more notifications. This same cycle continued for the rest of the allotted time that I allowed myself to study her. The ability to juggle the demands of academic and social life has proved to be an innate behavior of this specimen.

Predicted score on Biology Exam: 78%. An admirable score not likely to be attained by the average slacker.

Subject #2: A male with an assortment of papers, a spiral notebook, and a textbook scattered at a table meant for 4 people. It couldn’t be determined what subject he was studying for, although the apparent disorganization of his workspace indicated three possibilities: Organic Chemistry, Thermodynamics, or a cry for help . He shuffled these papers around the table like an ill-mannered toddler playing with his dinner. His aura reeked of desperation for a grade that would look nice on a transcript and his mother’s refrigerator.

Predicted score on Unknown Exam: 42%. However, considering the Chemistry department is under probation for failing too many students, the subject’s score will more than likely be curved to a passing grade. New score: 65%.

Subject #3: A male with what looks to be a 15″ Macbook Pro checking his Facebook profile. It appears that the subject has no friend requests, messages, or other notifications to attend to. Instead of studying the notes scattered before him, he is studying the lives of his Facebook friends encoded in the news feed. It’s unknown whether the subject personally knows his electronic friends. To get another angle on this subject’s study habits, it would be beneficial to interview his E-friends and ask them to complete a self-report questionnaire regarding the issue at hand. Unfortunately, I’m unable to read the names of his E-friends on his laptop screen, so my sole assessment will have to suffice.

Predicted score on Unknown Assignment/Exam: Turned in three days late/58%. Facebook account deactivated to reevaluate his academic career.

Subject #4, #5, & #6: Three females grouped together at a table. Subject #5 was wearing a sweater with Greek letters stitched on the front. The other two females did not wear matching outfits, although the possibility of them belonging to the same organization exists. Once again, I could not determine what academic subject was being studied. The group demonstrated exquisite teamwork like a gang of ants carrying an abandoned roadside cracker. The material being studied was encoded and stored away into their long-term memory, ready to be retrieved at a moment’s notice.

Predicted scores on Unknown Assignments/Exams: 80%-95%. I am currently seeking membership to their exclusive study group in hopes of acquiring their stellar wealth of knowledge.

Subject #7 aka Myself: A male occupying a table meant for 4 people for the sole purpose of staring at other students. In order to blend in with his environment, he has camouflaged himself with grace like the deceased Crocodile Hunter to make it look like he’s studying. With wandering eyes, the specimen displayed poor time-management skills knowing that he has two exams to study for this week.

Predicted scores on Biology/Psychology Exams: I just don’t care anymore.

Works Cited: My creepy, wandering eyeballs.

Prisoners Are Human, Too

Yesterday, in a criminal justice course that I have to take for some reason to get my psychology degree, the professor brought in three prisoners accompanied by a member of security to talk to the class about what it’s like to be incarcerated.  These gentlemen walked into a classroom filled with spoiled, dead-eyed undergraduates who have never seen the inside of a jail cell and were expected to give them all a play-by-play of the heinous crimes they had committed.  I’ll tell you this: their stories were very eye-opening and managed to dig deep into the thought of only having one life to live.  I can also honestly say that despite their status as inmates, they were by far more human than every being populating our classroom.

The first inmate who stood before the classroom was a 39 year-old man who informed the class that we had nothing to be afraid of, and joked if something were to happen then they’d be tranquilized on the spot.  Immediately, he began his soliloquy on his life of crime.  He began an addiction to crack cocaine at the tender age of 15 after only a few experiences with marijuana.  Eventually, his story was filled only with speculation as he claimed that he could not remember a good portion of his life due to what seemed like an everlasting high.  One night, while high, he said that he wanted to go rob a store with someone he considered a “true” friend at the time.  They settled on a gas station and decided they’d rob the place by equipping a starter pistol (a pistol used to start track and field races).  He stumbled into the gas station and immediately pointed the starter pistol into the gas attendant’s face.  He requested all of the money in the cash register and made a quick attempt to the escape the gas station, only to be stopped by what he described as a .38 handgun held by the attendant.  The attendant did not pull the trigger and the prisoner repeatedly claimed that God had intervened to give him a chance to correct his actions.  Just as he was about to let go of the money he had stolen, the prisoner began overdosing on whatever concoction of drugs circulating about his system.  His “true” friend, waiting in the car, proceeded to drive off once he noticed that the prisoner was on the ground overdosing.  The prisoner says he never saw his friend again and woke up in the hospital the very next day, only to be given possession charges and robbery charges among others.  He is currently serving his 7th year in prison.  He has a wife and two daughters who await his release.

The second inmate was an enormous man about 45 years-old who did not have an excellent grasp on the English language.  He started off in life as an excellent athlete who played football, basketball, and baseball while in high school.  He also said that he amassed an impressive grade point average during his time as the school’s star athlete. His peers convinced him to try an assortment of drugs that would eventually damage who was then and change him into an entirely different person.  While in jail serving time for drug charges, he got into a fight with another inmate who he ended up stabbing with an improvised weapon that he made in prison.  After discussing why he was in prison and what it was like living out his life within these walls, he informed the class that he had a wife along with seven children; two of the younger ones aren’t exactly sure why their father isn’t at home with them.

The final inmate was younger than me at 21 years-old.  He had dreams of going to college until one night in particular changed his future.  At the age of 18, a fight had broken out at the party he was attending with some friends.  He and his friends had left the party after the fight had concluded, only to return later in the night to brutally beat on the people who fought them.  After severely wailing on them, the prisoner and his friends stole some items from the house.  That same night, the prisoner and his friends were arrested and destined to be imprisoned for the next several years.

Each prisoner showed remorse for his actions, however they also admit that they’re grateful for the events that took place in their lives because they claimed they would not be the changed men that they are today if those events didn’t occur.  The prisoners looked about the room and admired that all of us were sitting in our seats pursuing the dreams that we wanted to live out.  However, I was bothered when I noticed that two girls had the audacity to sleep for a better part of the class period while the prisoners were sharing their life stories. These rude displays of behavior bothered me because it did not seem like they were appreciating the life they were living as opposed to the prisoners.  These prisoners were in the classroom wishing that they could be in our seats living out the dreams that they once set out for themselves.  My classmates did not even have the decency to give these men the time of day.

Their goals have changed to accommodate the dreams of their children so that they won’t make the same mistakes they did growing up.  Unlike many of who want a job that will provide thousands or even millions of dollars, these men vie for a simple life where the only requirement is happiness.  The money doesn’t matter to them, instead they’d rather be out of prison so that they can care for their children and give them the greatest lives possible.

Our society looks down upon prisoners who have wasted their chances on heinous activities, yet I discovered during this lecture that they are human like the rest of us.  Like us, they have made mistakes that have altered their life’s course and seek for a second chance to correct themselves.  Despite what these men had done, I grew a tremendous amount of respect for them; even more respect than the two girls who decided to sleep during their presentation.

These men are not prisoners, rather they are humans like the rest of us, and I pray that they will be given the second chance at a life to fulfill their dream of happiness.

Coming Home

I’ve been left out in the dark

Stripped naked and cold.

The blade has found its home

Buried in waves of warm flesh.

Warmth was something that I longed for.

 

I’ve been left out in the dark

With a visceral fear of being lonesome.

The lost soul has found its home

In the arms of the omnipotent Entity.

Welcoming arms were something that I longed for.

 

I’ve been left out in the dark

Without somebody to tell that I love them.

Words of lust have found their home

As they’re whispered in the ears of a loved one.

Love was something that I longed for.

 

I’ve been left out in the dark

Without a home to call my own.

Shelter is not what I needed, Home is

The love held within our own two hearts.

I hope you answer.

5 Alternative Meanings for Common Phrases That Women Use

1. “You seem like a really nice guy, but I’m just not ready for a relationship right now.”

What we like to think she’s saying: “If we date, it would get ugly. You don’t seem like somebody who could play his cards right in any situation, therefore causing my recessive psycho-bitch gene to become fully expressive at the drop of a dime.  You don’t want to see what it looks like when a white girl like me gets her period. Do you remember what OJ’s Bronco looked like in the aftermath? Did you really just allude to the size of your junk? Please, I could’ve sworn when you put a condom on that I was staring into the eye of a famined poltergeist. Your days of dripping ectoplasm in my haunted house are long gone, Casper.  Well, have a nice day!”

2. “Oh my God, girl! I LOVE your outfit today.”

What we like to think she’s saying: “Bitch, please. Those orangutan tits of yours are poisoning the fabric.  What are you, cold?  It’s like 60 degrees out and your nipples are tearing through the threads.  What, do you want people to read braille on your chest or something? Is that a new up and coming method for whoring?  And ugh, that lipstick is atrocious.  It looks like you’re trying to make every orifice on your body look indistinguishable.  Oh, and of course, the yoga pants aren’t very original either.  I’m still trying to determine whether the camel from the Geico Hump Day commercial is responsible for curb stomping your nether region in when you got dressed this morning.  Did you refuse to tell him what day it was? What a tragedy.  Well, have a nice day!”

3. “I’ll just have a salad, please.”

What we like to think she’s saying: “Dude behind the counter: why are you looking at me that way?  Are you judging the fact that I came to McDonald’s to order a salad? Forgive me for thinking ahead.  I don’t want to be farting bits of bacon out for the better part of the afternoon. Okay, okay, I’m totally fibbing. I came in fiending for a Coke and a Royale with Cheese until I discovered that your customers make lunchtime look like a porno starring Sally Struthers and Rosie O’Donnell.  I have to maintain my weight; I can’t afford to yo-yo like Oprah in the 90’s.  If I let that happen, Harpo productions will soon become Harpoon and the townspeople will be chucking them at me like Captain Ahab on angel dust. Well, have a nice day!”

4. “Oh, of course you can have my number! It’s (insert phone number here).“

What we like to think she’s saying: “Hah, you wanna hit this raw dog and bail?  Too bad, because I know something you don’t know! I didn’t give you my phone number. I gave you the number of the nearest Planned Parenthood clinic so you can get yourself a vasectomy. After they rewire your plumbing, you won’t get to experience Mendelian genetics first-hand because you won’t have any genes to pass on.  How does it feel knowing that a wimpy dinner vegetable like peas have been more successful at breeding than you? You’re so incompetent that you couldn’t get fucked by a middle finger. Well, have a nice day!”

5. “I’ll be there at 8 o’clock sharp!”

What we like to think she’s saying: “Let me test your basic arithmetic skills. If I say that I’m going to be there at 8 o’clock sharp, that should induce even a non-mathematician such as yourself to believe that I’ll arrive at least two hours late, therefore it will be 10 o’clock when I will actually show up. I feel a little uneasy knowing that you’ve spent the entire evening peering out of the mail slot of the front door in anticipation of my arrival. Are you expecting the Wet Bandits or something? In that case, forget about me ever showing up. I thought about just walking up and slipping two middle fingers through the mail slot, but I’m afraid you’ve spunked on the metal many a time waiting for a single girl to show up. I’ll do you a solid and send Richard Simmons over to prance around your living room like a pony instead. He’s probably the most famous member of the Sticky Bandits.  Well, have a nice day!”

“Lemme tell you what I really think.”

I Couldn’t Sleep Last Night

The room was as black as Onyx.  It was an uneasy slumber.  A blind baby mouse was attracted to the heat abandoning my mouth as yet another nightmare played in my head.  Seeking warmth, he climbed into the crevice and situated himself on my taste buds.  His fur tickled the roof of my mouth and his claws scraped the enamel of my teeth.  He welcomed each breath that warmed him.

Skeletal, the blind mouse yearned to fill his gut.  He couldn’t find anything until he stepped further into the back of my mouth.  His whiskers registered my uvula and teased the back of my throat.  He thought he had stumbled upon a feast.  His teeth punctured my uvula, causing me to awake from my previous nightmare and bellow with unimaginable pain.  Startled, the blind mouse bit even harder and severed the uvula.  I, too, was startled and accidentally swallowed the blind mouse.

He had had his last meal as he traveled slowly down my esophagus, trying to use his claws on the tissue to prevent the fall.  He met his demise in a pool of gastric acid.  He died on a full stomach, nonetheless.

Arguing With Your Woman: How to Stand Your Ground

Every argument I’ve gotten into with a girlfriend was like storming Ohama beach during the Normandy invasion.  Devil horns protruding from her nipples, her mouth constantly fired .50 caliber nonsense for minutes on end until her C-cups deflated and shreds of manhood peppered the ground like a torn piece of paper.  What the hell have you done this time, men?  Is she justified in sounding off her displeasure, detonating all of her eggs purposely so your inferior sperm cannot infiltrate the enemy camp that is her reproductive organs?  Or is she just causing a ruckus because Cosmopolitan told her that it was healthy for the relationship?  Whatever the case, my 0-47 personal record will serve in helping you conquer these battles without her claiming assault to a 911 operator.  Below are a few common scenarios featuring arguments between couples and how you can come out on top.

Scenario #1: The “Nope, I’m Fine” Situation

You: “Is something wrong, babe?”

Your Girlfriend: “Nope, I’m fine.”

(Repeat exchange six or seven times)

The Argument: Not even an argument but toxic nonetheless,  this is the most aggravating form of “actions speak louder than words.”  Her job is to keep her lips sealed about the issue at hand and employ the man to figure out what’s bothering her.  Most men would rather pull splinters from their urethra than hidden information from a woman’s skull.

How You Should Respond: “I’m sorry, hun, but the Women’s Rights movement didn’t succeed by angry women being silent.  I’d rather you be a nagging cow than pretend Mary Shaw ripped your tongue out.  I firmly believe that communication is key to a successful relationship, and if you can’t do that then Helen Keller has got the upper hand, I’m afraid.”

Scenario #2: The “Wearing the Pants” Situation

Your Girlfriend: “I feel like I’m the one wearing the pants in this relationship!”

The Argument: Is she right?  Does she have a metaphorical scrotum bulging out of the slacks that dictate a relationship?  The point of this argument is for her to claim power over her boyfriend, although her exclamation states that she desires the converse.  This is supposed to rile you up and make you reclaim the pants that once gave you unimaginable power.

How You Should Respond: “So you want me to be in control and not let you have a say in anything?  That kind of contradicts the whole equality thing you’ve been striving for. In that case, go upstairs and you’ll find luggage that I have prepared especially for you.  You’ve just won yourself an all-expenses paid trip to Saudi Arabia: a magical land where men who wear the pants roam.”

Scenario #3: The “Jealousy” Situation

Your Girlfriend: “Stop looking at her! You’re always looking at other women that aren’t me.  No, you can’t get lunch with her.”

The Argument: You should not be ogling at other women.  Obviously this is a legitimate argument, however she can get a wee bit extreme with it.  This argument is employed more as an attempt for your girlfriend to glue your corneas to her figure so you don’t accidentally pop an erection with another girl’s name on it.

How You Should Respond: “I could argue that your eyes wander like Paris Hilton’s lazy eye on the Red Carpet.  Why else would you be telling me that I should ‘dress more like him’ or ‘act more like him’?  I’ve noticed how you dress and flirt with other guys when we go out somewhere. Excuse my retinas for registering the existence of other females that aren’t you. If your dog in this fight is a double standard then I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Scenario #4: The “What Movie to Watch/What to Watch on TV” Situation

Your Girlfriend: “We only watch whatever you want to watch.  Why can’t we ever watch things that interests us as a couple?”

The Argument: Have you ever spent an hour on Netflix cycling through all of the movies and TV shows, yet you still can’t decide what you want to watch?  Do you have any idea how difficult it is when you add an extra person into the mix?

How You Should Respond: “Don’t give me that.  I let you pick movies, too, but I can only stand so much of Sarah Jessica Parker’s mouth.  Also, I’m sorry that I couldn’t get into Duck Dynasty.  I really am sorry, but it’ just not my cup of tea.  By the way, are you ever going to shave?  It looks like the cast of Duck Dynasty is filming an episode down there right now.”

Haunted, but Beautiful

I began to express my true love for her to see if the scars would permanently dissipate from her delicate skin. I knew her past was dangerous territory to explore because her heart beats in a rather horrifying pattern. It’s brutal, almost as if she was impaled with an object sporting a jagged edge that made her heart work overtime to keep her alive. The pattern of the heartbeat is nearly identical to the one when she locks her beautiful eyes with mine as the fire warms our flesh. This is different.

She had another man in her life before me. He was oppressive and craved for power over the defenseless. She still remembers the sharp pain a swing of his fist registered into her cheekbone. Never did she think the color blue could look so menacing until the bruises colored her skin. The many abrasions on her body was the outcome of rape. He cut even deeper when she tried to escape, but he held her against her will. The numerous gashes and lacerations on her skin reminded me of a locked door with many scratches on it when a person fears for their life in a darkened room. They desperately try to claw their way out before a force of darkness takes them away, yet they never know exactly what it is that takes them away because the darkness obscures the morbid face of horror.

She began to cry at the thought of her violent past as I said these words of love. I tried to convince her that she was the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen in my entire life. She cried even more and the scars on her skin started to glow. My heartfelt words began to cut her up like a swarm of razor blades. Each scar opened up and blood flowed from the crevices. Her tears fused with the blood coursing down her body down to the floor until she was standing in a puddle of her abusive past.

As the blood permeated through the cracks of the floor and bathed my feet, she told me not to show my love through spoken language. “Love” and “beautiful” were the exact words her violent ex-boyfriend told her many times before he raped her. She has branded these words as deceiving and she’s afraid I’ll do what exactly what he did.

She sits on the bed still bleeding from her scars. I approach her and submerge my knees into the blood so I can look deeper into her tortured eyes. As I placed my hand on her face for comfort, the blood from the scar on her right cheek began to trickle down my forearm until it jumped off at the elbow and splashed onto the floor.

She told me not to use words to express my love because they were too deceiving. I simply pressed my lips against hers and engaged with her in a long kiss. The taste of blood reminded me that she is still human despite how dehumanized he made her feel.

Silence suffocated the room. She locked her eyes with mine once again. The tears and the blood stopped flowing. Silence is something she longed for. The stillness of the room was rather welcoming; it’s different from the screams and abuse that still haunt her to this day.

Silence had never been so beautiful before.

7 Text Messages Men Send to Their Woman of Interest

A man myself, I admit that men are dismal at being cryptic in their text messages.  Behold, these are 7 text messages that men will potentially send if their real intention is to pursue something further with a member of the female persuasion.

1. “How’s your day going?”

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘She’s gotta know that someone cares to listen about her daily adventures.  Sadly, I wasn’t a part of those adventures, so I’m currently damned to inquire through text message.  Please, enlighten me with every last detail.  I must know anything and everything about your day.  None of that monosyllabic nonsense such as “Good.”  I’m totally obsessed without you knowing, so just give me what I want.  I just want to hug you tighter than your yoga pants.’

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘It was going swell until your name popped up on my iPhone.’

2. FILE ATTACHED-selfie.jpg

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘I’m rather sly if I don’t say so myself.  Sure, selfies are kind of homosexual, but dammit this is for a woman and I must compromise.  She needs to know what she’s dealing with, which is the left side of my face that I consider my ‘better side.’ Her taste buds are destined to register the flavor that is my chiseled left side.  There are no zits to taint the flavor and my bone structure is perfectly proportional, giving my face the shape that makes the ladies swoon.  I would’ve sent a pic of my abs, but I’m still working on those.  Be patient, ladies, it’s a work-in-progress.’

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘LOL.’

3. “Good morning.”

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘She needs to know someone’s thinking about her even at 8 in the morning, and that smart bastard is gonna be me.  No, it’s not creepy…there’s no set time of day that’s socially acceptable to start texting.  Hell, I should’ve sent it earlier!  No worries, it’ll be the first thing she’ll wake up to today and she’ll be ecstatic, grinning and flashing those orgasmic pearly whites for a better part of the day.  I’m so clever that I’m hard just thinking about it.’

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘Dude, texting me at the ass-crack of dawn will not make me want to put out.’

4. “Wanna come watch a movie?  I’m thinking horror tonight.”

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘It’s genius, chicks love horror movies!  I have an arsenal of flicks that would scare the panties off of her, therefore doing half the work for me.  It gives me a good excuse to coincidentally grab her hand at a scary moment, and then inch my way closer and closer to show her someone’s there to comfort her.  Now, should I cut a hole in the popcorn bucket, or should I wear sweatpants since they’re looser and she’ll have easy access to snake her hand in?”

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘Gun control is somewhat of an issue in this country, so I’ll just utilize the pepper spray my mom gave me if he pulls that popcorn trick.  I’d rather watch a porno of your father getting cock-blocked so that you were never born.’

5. “Hey.”

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘Well shit, I didn’t know what else to say, so hey was my best bet.  Oh well, she’ll respond with something more and I can just build off of that.  In my opinion, it’s a hell of a conversation starter.  I can’t be too forward and be like, “Hey, I think you’re hot and I want to be on you.” Instead, allow me to butter you up by starting with a three letter text message.  Going the casual route will make her think, “OH MY GAWD, he said hey!”  She can’t just not respond, right?’

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘Bye.’

6. “Wanna play 20 questions?”

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘I tell ya, this worked that one time when I was with that one girl, and we ended up dropping trou and doing the nasty.  How’s that for statistical significance, naysayers?  It’s the perfect game to get her hot and bothered.  I’ll just play it smooth and start off with some bullshit nonsense like asking about her favorite color or favorite movie.  Right around question 4 or 5 is where things will start getting heavy, like when was her first kiss or when was the first time she had sex.  To keep with the theme, she’ll have to ask me similar questions, and eventually the questions will get so dirty that it’d be better to explore them physically rather than verbally.  It’s fool-proof!’

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘What the hell is this shit? This is getting weird, perhaps I should’ve installed that electrical fence in my pants.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200.’

7. “So, are there any new guys in your life?”

What he’s thinking when he hits send:

‘I should be the guy in your life.  Come on, I’ve asked about your day, I’ve sent you numerous selfies, I woke up at 6 am just to tell you good morning, we watched the entire Leprechaun horror movie marathon starring Warwick Davis, I routinely greet you with a panty-dropping “Hello” on the regular, and we even played a round of 20 questions.  What else do you need for me to be a primary candidate?  The second you tell me there isn’t another dude in your life is the second I’ll conjure up a collage of naughty pictures and send them your way.  Please don’t phone the authorities, I’m just desperate.’

What she’s thinking when she reads it:

‘Should I just tell him that I’m a lesbian?’

The World Is My Painting

I’m haunted by the elegiac darkness of this world.

There are no visible boundaries of this black room I exist in.

No light, no color, almost as if the world itself is blind.

How am I to restore light in such a dark place

That even I am unable to see through?

I cannot see, I can smell, taste, hear, and touch

The darkness circulating throughout the realm.

A light has made its presence known as a glow

Emits from the depths within my body.

This white shine only glows within my body

And still leaves the rest of the world saturated in black paint.

My heart and every other vital organ are exposed.

A myriad of colors are flowing through my veins.

These are the only colors left that exist.

The world needs to be painted again so

I’m going to bring it back to life.

With a razor, I cut through my skin and watched

The colors seep through my body into the darkness.

A pool of multicolored paint lays in front of me at my disposal.

With a paintbrush, I use the colors within my body

And give a hue to everything that was once alive.

I’m losing consciousness and I will soon be dead

But the world will never again dabble into darkness.

The grass is greener than it ever was, the sky is bluer

And everything that was once beautiful is lively again.

I’ve fallen into a slumber in which I’ll never awake,

But I’ll get to sleep in a pool of beautiful colors

I knew once existed. To my death,

I’ve made the world a painting of my own

That came straight from the heart.