Dizzy with wonder.

I don't fucking know.

I totally ~*loved*~ Pan's Labyrinth. I'm sad I didn't get to see it in the cinema. 

I wrote this over the summer in a writing class. I don't really like or pay much attention to poetry. Nothing is ever good (understatement) enough for me, and I don't even know what the fuck it's about, but whatever I'm sleepy so it's going to be posted. Sucks to be you.

This,
Here?
This is where she keeps it.
Look a little to the left.
The knowledge you’ve been so fearful of
stretches beyond your routine vision,
hiding beneath the stench of timeworn shirts
hung upon their ragged wire hangers;
pushed above and away from us.
It is definitely there.

Let’s take a more profound look, together.
This air is stifling;
familiarity helps you to stand it
and you have always been skeptical.
I will tighten my fist around your wrist,
dragging you forward,
tugging at you,
gradually,
lightheaded from hemmed walls,
a shepherd to steer you in the proper  direction.

Apprehension abandoned; forsaken.
Grossly insignificant in comparison
to this connection,
between us,
even as these obstacles threaten to wrap you
in ways my flesh cannot.

I'm going to start using this again. It's prettier than myspace and fresher than lj -- more than enough reason, right? Yeah, and add me on myspace while you are at it.