when i...

catefrances · November 2010

she knew who she was looking for but that didnt make it any less stressful. she extended her hand in greeting and when he introduced himself she said she knew. it slipped out before she could stop it and they both laughed. she only had a backpack with her but he took it, slung it over one shoulder and led her to the car. she never been this far north and to stop herself thinking she gazed absentmindedly out the window. it was raining and the rhythm of the wipers almost had her nodding off. was he drinking?. he wasnt. he hadnt been drinking since he arrived. that was her first surprise. hed been up at his cabin doing whatever it was he did up there and decided a trip to the city during a howling rainstorm was a good idea. his car did not. the opinion was he was craving company and came down the mountain looking for it. its not my fault

no. its his

i dont even know why he had you call me

he told me about you.he said you drove him crazy...

ha. short trip

... you didnt demand anything of him like others did. he said he wasnt sure how to handle that

oh come on. surely she never...

she stopped herself. she didnt want to talk about that. she didnt want to talk about him. she didnt want to be in this car being driven by this rockstar who shed never met before but who had been a part of her life for many years. it was like some weird absurdist movie. this was not who she was. not anymore. after last time she swore no more dopers. no more musicians who actually had a record deal and product in the stores. and definitely not one as well known as the one lying in a hospital bed hooked up to a drip. last time it ended badly. this one had that potential and she didnt want it. but she had to admit to herself she did want him. she let out a long sigh.

will you wait for me?

of course

rollings · November 2010

catefrances wrote:

she stands half way across the room
gazing at her portrait
fine lines and colour wash
harking back to the work of another
she likes what she sees
but shes not sure
if its for this portrait or for the influence

he sits in his chair
the wicker worn in places
he watches her gazing at herself
her fine lines mark the space
her hair hangs in a black sheet
she shifts her weight
and he watches her arse settle

she speaks then turns
she watches him watching her
they play this game
each wanting the other
but neither wanting to make the first move
its a tease they both know it

the rain outside beats time
with their breath and he stands
she smiles as he comes toward her
the tshirt, his tshirt barely covers
what it is he wants is her
and she knows as she always does
as he touches her that this between them
is his muse. not her...
...but this.

THIS is very good

catefrances · November 2010

she sighed upon the sea
an ocean full of tears
the wind that steered her from home
couldnt blow her back again
she once knew how deep the waters
and how far she was from calm
but now the waves roll so high and wide
its difficult to see the stars
and so when darkness comes
shes tossed amidst black water
and finds herself alone

catefrances · November 2010

i wonder when
i wonder what
i wonder why it all began
i wonder when it fell apart
but i dont wonder how you stole my heart
it was easy so it seems
and just as easy to destroy the dream
oh yes i admit i was putty in your hands
but you were meant to design beauty
not corrode it into an acidic mess
i wonder when
i wonder why
i wonder what it all meant

catefrances · November 2010

someone is here
i cant see who
they brush right by
dont say goodbye
i wish theyd stop
at least to try
to see me here

i sigh to breathe
to cry is useless
it rushes past
i dont dare move
lest i fall

someone is here
i can see who
they say hey
but choose to ignore
i wish id start
at least to try
to try to see me
anywhere
anywhere but
here.

catefrances · November 2010

i saw you once
where are you
walking though the park
hands deep inside your pockets

i saw you once
where are you
i took your picture
but you were unaware
brown hair poking from underneath
a striped beanie pulled down over your head

i saw you twice
in my hand i hold
an image of you
where are you
are you near?

catefrances · November 2010

quiet space
somnolent
comes alive
yet remains
silhouettes against the walls
covered in bright coloured shapes
words written in between
the solid blocks
the fine lines, the smiles
the curves and casual hands
amazing how
such a space is reverred
as if by its very being
its holy and should be experienced
in whispered tones
she longs to cry out
to scream
its okay
use your outside voice
but she is gone
and this, her creation
is her(e)
and so
in respect
we shall clasp our hands behind our backs
lean in conspiratorially
and share our thoughts
keep criticism to a minimum
as if to not like
is to show disrespect
rather than to pretend,
which does.

catefrances · December 2010

i could ask why
but i dont care
i see the destruction left
and i dont care
about you
i dont understand
i doubt i ever will
little pieces falling into place
slowly making sense
i could ask why
but as i said
i dont care
i could ask why
but it no longer matters
the fact that you did what you did
is enough for me
not to care
to question every word you spoke
how could i trust you again
aah but now it all makes sense...
... to you
not me

catefrances · December 2010

did you tell him
did you tell him what you did
did you tell him how you hold a heart
and how you squeeze it til it dies
did you whisper sweet words in his ear
tell him how much you love him
how you want to be his queen

did you hold him close
so close he couldnt breathe
wrap your arms around his life
and very slowly take away all his belief

did you tell him
did you pour all your poison
deep into his soul
til all he knew was you

did you separate him from his life
so he could give his all to you
did you laugh when you left him broken
hear his cries and him begging for release

did you know that i am watching you
and what you think i dont know, i do
do you know one day itll all come down on you
and youll only have yourself to blame.

tremors · December 2010

The writing in this thread is so good it is actually hard to digest without me getting overly churned up. I had to dip in to three or four pieces. Will have to come back to more when feeling stronger. Thanks for sharing this with us. Sincerely.

acrossssSsssshittt · December 2010

catefrances wrote:

she sighed upon the sea

...

and finds herself alone

feels like home

catefrances · December 2010

tremors wrote:

The writing in this thread is so good it is actually hard to digest without me getting overly churned up. I had to dip in to three or four pieces. Will have to come back to more when feeling stronger. Thanks for sharing this with us. Sincerely.

thanks.

catefrances · December 2010

coming home to an empty house
i feel the tremors bouncing off the walls
the words that all turned to lies
the calm left by your deceit
that leaves me sad
not for me but for
the person you turned out to be
not once did i ever doubt
back then anything you had to say
and had you not done it again
id still be none the wiser
but they say habits are hard to break
and i guess betrayal is your bad habit
for you to share
the empty spaces filled with music
loud enough to drown you out
is my release and knowing
the aloneness i momentarily feel
will cover you til your old age

catefrances · December 2010

every where i walk
i still see you...
...feel you by my side
the thought of you
sneaks by my defenses
makes me sad and happy
at the same time
cant understand...
... probably wont ever...
...why you went away
but when i stop and think
i hold you closer
than my own heartbeat
where ever i walk
youre there by my left side
always shadowing me

catefrances · December 2010

she didnt know why she stayed. but she did. when he could, they walked... always side by side never touching. he spoke. and she listened. he faltered more than once both in his step and what he had to say. she was quiet and over time learnt by his breath when to speak. he absorbed her and she liked it. as the weeks wore on they walked further and he got stronger. to her it was if every word he spoke energised him. and she was always there. when she found him sitting alone in the dark in a silence deafening to even the loudest heartbeat she took his hand. he looked at her, stood up and with the barest space between them swore hed never let her go.

catefrances · February 2011

i see you there
standing silent
wrapping yourself in
your darkness a security blanket
to keep you safe
from harm

i step a little closer
and you dont
seem to mind
a smile a touch
you come alive learning
again to trust

i know
what i want
i can bide my time
til that touch becomes
your word...
... and your word becomes
what you want
and what you want
is us.

catefrances · February 2011

we are all graffiti artists. we carve our names into the school desk. we scrawl the name of our favourite band on our pencil case in blue ink. we spend idle moments in school seeing how our name goes with the boy we like's surname. we doodle. we draw fake tattoos on our skin. we take down messages on scraps of paper. leave notes for loved ones on post its on the fridge... sometimes lost among the family photos, works of treasured child art and magnets from places weve visited. everytime we lift a pen or a pencil we become graffiti artists. and every time we should revel in us as creator cause graffiti is art. and art is good.

PilateOfTheStorm · February 2011

catefrances wrote:

we are all graffiti artists. we carve our names into the school desk. we scrawl the name of our favourite band on our pencil case in blue ink. we spend idle moments in school seeing how our name goes with the boy we like's surname. we doodle. we draw fake tattoos on our skin. we take down messages on scraps of paper. leave notes for loved ones on post its on the fridge... sometimes lost among the family photos, works of treasured child art and magnets from places weve visited. everytime we lift a pen or a pencil we become graffiti artists. and every time we should revel in us as creator cause graffiti is art. and art is good.

lovely

this thread is great, only just read it i must admit
have yet to read all of it, but from what i've already seen,you write beautifully.

catefrances · February 2011

you raped me with your pretty words
and left me out to dry
every time i found myself spent
did all i could not to cry
i often wonder what it took
for you to behave the way you did
but we must be cut from very different cloth
cause i never could prise off the lid
of the jar of worms that pumped the blood
through a decaying mind
that thought it was just peachy keen
to drown me deep within the brine

sometimes when im weak
and my own mind starts to think
i remember where you are
and see its not with me
and i allow that to make me strong
and build upon the dead
words you left hanging high
of promises unkept.

tremors · February 2011

electricxlovex wrote:

catefrances wrote:

we are all graffiti artists. we carve our names into the school desk. we scrawl the name of our favourite band on our pencil case in blue ink. we spend idle moments in school seeing how our name goes with the boy we like's surname. we doodle. we draw fake tattoos on our skin. we take down messages on scraps of paper. leave notes for loved ones on post its on the fridge... sometimes lost among the family photos, works of treasured child art and magnets from places weve visited. everytime we lift a pen or a pencil we become graffiti artists. and every time we should revel in us as creator cause graffiti is art. and art is good.

lovely

this thread is great, only just read it i must admit
have yet to read all of it, but from what i've already seen,you write beautifully.

Cate's writing is so good it is actually frightening. I have to steel myself before I read this stuff. But I can't help myself

when i...

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