Coco J. Ginger's Blog, page 41

Can you really fall in love…

..with someone you have never met?

Un-fun Mr. Zum :(

i had a baby, a tar-heart baby, i liked my baby, my tar-heart baby. i was bright, i was yellow, i was painted in cinnamon cayenne and pleasure. We read a novel side by side, we watched the train Dagny fly by—he even liked my pistachio goat ice cream. But winter came and he turned [...]

even if it breaks your heart

If the boy across the hall was real, I would slap him. He wrote the meanest blog post about me, it’s maddening. If I ever see him, I will use magic to turn into a vampire, and I will bite him. He turned our once playful encounters into my worst nightmare disaster. If he dies, [...]

Who is John Galt?

you left I sat by your side i reached over there was no body to find I saw your eyes i looked deep inside they were empty you were not inside I heard your voice but it spoke in a foreign tongue I felt your skin but it was damp and cold it made a [...]

dear roman payne

[I'll be] the smile on your lips, the beat that forces skips, pleasurable pain you cannot quench. Muse alive within your pen, wild spirit in your head, sparkling height of all your tales, your damsel in distress, character you must pen. I’ll be the one who won’thouse-break you, try to domesticate or change you. Of [...]

She wasn’t real…

..the way he talked about her—to her, it wasn’t real, she wasn’t real. Was she? could she? could she be real? was he wrong? and if he was, how would she walk past the walls…the walls of pain he had created to game her, to shame her, to hurt her, to break her? [...]

She wasn’t perfect…

…but she was real, she was touchable, she was brilliant. And to him, that was enough. She smiled, she saw him see it in her. And to her that was enough.

i need a bandaid…

…not for my heart but for my heel. Ouch.

Dear heartbreak,

we’ve had our share of fun together (yawn), but I’ve just purchased a little black dress, bright red lipstick, some shamefully elevated risqué high heels, and painted my nails a color Essie calls ‘escapades’. I’m in a white wrangler speeding down the highway to a place where dreams come true, memories of past love DIES [...]

i can’t

I can’t talk to you anymore. I can’t talk to you with words with thoughts with silence. I can’t talk to you anymore (she won’t talk to you anymore).