malenky devotchka

Bella Morte
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2004-03-08 01:13:10 (UTC)

witch child

i was undecided in my restless-ness, was i there? was i
imagining the shadows moving again, imagining the old flame
growing in my chest, beating rapid round my wrist, my breath
short, choked in a forbidding of the self. i sat in silence,
i sat in a corner and watched. if only, if only, if only, i
could read... him. i was full of awe and awe-full and
screaming my head off in a chaos of favorite rants. quite
aware of the situation into which i gladly tread, only to
regret the basis at a moments notice. "an extasy of
fumbling" i know all too well. challenging the values of
those who've experienced, the warning from a close friend of
the vulnerability i open myself to.
i have yet to decide if i was actually there or not, it all
seems so vague now, like a memory from a dream too quiet to
disturb; disturbed only by the giggling of the fan club
perched silent and watching, they throw darts at me for no
reason. i wonder, can anyone tell me, was i there?

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