here_and_gone_now trixie here was there then and his eyes were a very different time and place. well, do you believe in love when sighted at first? a breath and my eyes, turning on, a flash in his direction. "my god, that guy is fucking amazing-hot." a smile. he nods. wait for me okay? one more minute, just let the band play on. oh wait i must pass you now. and unsuspectingly heard a premature, almost, hey. a turn, thank god it we he, and thank god it was me. hi. hi. can you feel it? where did the room go when he and me first touched? a magnetic pull through the fingertips while sliding away. can i stay? his eyes on me and me there for him and it for itself was all perfect in a still way. goodbye. ill call you, call your buddies. yeah, you played here last night. bass? the dark and deep undertone that the guitars neglect but can't live without, like me. well, and like you too as it so turned out. round up the girls, and the hanger on. "wow, that guy's hotter than fuck all." go out and live a final night of innocent vitality and of prudish narcissim. play the clown, let them laugh and don't think about it. no bars and nothing for i think i merely went to bed and didn't even remember my purpose. morning lifted and the girls were thrusting their force. well, maybe ill call, but "i'm kinda tired dude." no makeup, just some perk and a couch near christopher, street that is, for there is no man, no one not then. a strike of passion powerful to neglect. his voice. running, ludlow, gotta see those eyes, but do i care? see the eyes, i care, i care so much i can't breathe and i lose my sense of friendly modesty and kind help. "well, it's okay, jane wants a tattoo anyway... so how are you?" how is he and me and those fucking eyes. talk to me. talk to you. like the band. situated in the middle of kindness, "sweet sarah," "little sarah," and also in the shakey pin head of falling into a lusty suction swirling with it, you know it, and the pain of sunday. but, it was not yet sunday. cold smokes passed. holding his silver zippo in those hands, "i like your hands," those hands i hope he could be proud of. holding close in laugher and glee, yes glee, in below freezing winds we were hot and drowsy with that pulsating pain, maybe it could last forever. "there's a party at three." i knew that party at three, id been several times before as a promotional whore to much success, so in the end i came off as a shining impressive. yay echoed and i was the princess, rather the queen surrounded by love and envy, deflected with a smile. well, i am a flirt, my greatest skill that kills me, im too good. and to pass beyond this dreaded and succulent skill we ran out for a hand to party #2. but a wait was in order, in the blistering cold, and when liz was hurting and almost over, i had to jet, mindlessly i must tell you. into a cab and gone. gone now. home and in greif, but warm. where is he? he's not here and that's for sure. the weary pain sets in and where am i. lamenting what i had lost, tossed, so carelessly. ring ring. he's in, "where are you?" that muscle in my chest, the one keeping my breasts company, it jumped. got a five and a stream of purpose, and a friendly cabbie. im there and greeted more openly than ever. ive been here before, but the cast and the writers and the suits, the brass, gone. he is it. thank god you're here. look at you, it's beauty and i know. then a kiss. oh fuck. it's all of fucking fuck. those eyes. that stomach, and arms and fucking everything little son of a preacher man. do you know you're giving it all to a jewish girl in a pseudo life who went to catholic school. then a car wreck and a vicodin head while fucking it all up over here and fucking myself over harder than anyone. do you know this city is my savoir and now it's earthed a pearl. i want you more. you wink and it's gold. night wears on with more and im engorged, you breathe off beat and can't stand away. oh fucking thank you. daylight. "that's my favorite part, coming out when it's dawn and fresh. you can hear the birds, do you hear the birds?" a new day and the best cab ride ever up 3rd. hold me and use it all, it's okay. i want it. laugh with me, it's funny you and me. so happy and sad at the same time. houston waits and we just laugh. the sexiest man ever and "sweet sarah" arrive at the hotel of the band and fill the band room. trashed. laugh with the guys. they all know. it's fucking golden. well. well. i grab my hat after a while of pure bliss. it's not a lie. getting going is in mind but a hug. a merge and a strength. "you shouldn't go." the breath not even coming. holding head to head. don't go. don't go. oh fuck, where am i? im crumbling. yes. yes i have to. lay down. two bodies on an equal plane and we just work being closer. put your hand on my head. watch me sleep before texas calls. watch you before i break. it's heat. it's almost 19 years of deprivety being soothed so sweetly. thank you. thank you. never wanting the check out of it to come. tightness. and eventually it does come. oh why? stalling was a glorious thing as we layed and sat and smoked and wrestled. it's almost too much to say, my body chills over but we kissed. prude=shattered and torn to reveal a heartaching for it wouldn't me long. finally it comes. "say goodbye to sarah." elevator. hands. the street. facing him. can't speak. we look and feel the hurt pricking through our skin. a touch, "remember me" "call me" embraced and gifted to. thank you. (but don't go, you're tearing my soul and it's already beaten) goodbye. goodbye. goodbye. i walk. can't turn around knowing he's standing there still. and i cry the sweetest tears i've ever let go. hurt and loved. thankful and lost. he's there as i glimpse. and soon, the corner is turned and that's it. gone. gone now. it trickles out of me and falls to the city floor. delirious in the park, as i do live at the improv or the comedy store to some pigeons in sutton place park. got it together and thankful. sad but moving. home. tired and loved. fall into my sheets and hold the gift tighter. drifting. gone. ring ring. him. he calls. him. complications with plans. well, after all that the boys need a place to crash and as the designated new yorker the job has been bestowed on me. "yeah man." tired but pulling it together. and now he's in my dorm. him. that hair and aura in 55th st. odd yet the best thing for it's more hours, yet more to lose. ill take the loss. chillin. ground zero and a new pain. never been before but he was the only person i'd ever go with. gates and emptiness shrouded with a flag. i cry and can't beleive it. i suddenly become a bush supporter and hold him. so many lost and loved there. don't go. i'd die. oh god, why are we here. don't leave me, don't ever go. and honesty becomes more of a handle than a pleasant gift. i watch him walk from behind and fight so hard to keep it in. it hurts. oh my god i hurt so bad. and i feel this way until the present and who knows how much further. let's drink. i need to forget you before you go forever. but we don't forget, rather it's raw and distant, it hurts to much to remember. drinking it away and smoking to die. waiting for my chance to be killed. and it'll be soon. i want more. and we hold and laugh, talk, play, look. wonderful, ill take anything from you that this point. im obsessed and haven't slept in over two days or eaten. too much emotion and too much good. all much him. finish off the roll. he tries to shoot the moon. shoot the moon. and robb, well, robb shows me that i've gone and stabbed myself. "his girlfriend's a photographer." oh. not the end but a bucket of water and the sarcasm and jade step back. that's right, you unloved mess. close it up again. quiet. just us in the street. "it's hard to shoot the moon." and a final moment of us and nothing. back inside he's observant and right on. no he didn't say anything and at this moment i wish i was drunk. what's wrong? did i say something? no, it's nothing. it's just that "you're a taken man, aren't you?" eyes down and pursed lips and pain flooding all over. well yes and no and something about an engagement and i can't hear and i just sit and listen. yes and no and maybe. and no, im pure man, there's no one else in my life. "the thing is, if there was, i wouldn't have looked at you." truth. but there's never been anyone but one and that was stabbing enough. not again and don't trash me as the new york tour girl. what the fuck was that? i know you pisces man. it was more than you knew before. and me, im just thrown and gone. that's it. houston and new york are different and not together as newston or sarephen. it's more than i thought. why? he gets up in hurt and plays the last song, U2. withyou without you. i can't take it. "why did you have to play this song?" oh god it hurts more than anything and he's giving me the one two and the reasonable oh i have a life over here and you're a great chick and im alone again. i know how over it is. but the bomb was dropped and i can't take it. "you want to walk me home?" as a group in front of the light building. oh god. don't leave now. why did this happen? you said eveything happens for a reason, and you met me. a grab and you can't leave. thank you thank you. and take care of yourself. take the best fucking care ever. i hope you're happy and loved. and the pain rises with the last kiss. awkward and abrupt. shy picses. hug and im not letting you go. almost gone and it's all slipping through and leaving and pulling and gone. back for the last and in tears he says to liz, you take fucking good care of this girl, shes the nicest girl, you take fucking care of her. you fucking better. someone hold me and save me and quit the razzing. and i opened the door and quickly was gone. and fall apart with tears and the sympathy for losing my catch. "disregard all this liz." i beg for the love on 29. don't fucking leave me you guys and i know im drunk and crying and loud and it's four and you have class but god don't leave me. i need a warm body, i might die right here as we seperate even more. no love there. a push, some yells and a superficial brush off. fine then you fuckers. my hour of need and nothing. the clown can go fuck herself and probably will. i fall asleep in a heap of tears and thankfully liz is the coolest best person in the world and cares for me and calms my guilty paranoia. fucking well founded. no problem. you deserve it. can i make you something to eat? do you need anything? no liz, no. grabbing the gift and searching my jeans i find the final token, the prized houston rules pin on his black velvet lapel opposite his heart. oh god, oh fucking god. i roll over and love the smell of cigarettes and cheap beer. inhale and go in sorrow. i wake up drunk and parched and finish the rest of today in a daze. no food. no cigs. no sleep. no him. i've cried hard. i've cried slow. weeped and can't listen to U2 Achtung Baby without losing it all. licking my wounds and sick of annoying my girls i decide not to talk about and go about daily bullshit and slide back into my mask as i make marie laugh and jane and ari smile. i live as the supportive friend. i'm comfortable and pushing it down. although i sweat all day and want to collapse i act for the sake of not having little girls be pissed and talk smack, oh burn the drama queen. forbidden are true feelings especially when painful. so i try to work. lit theory. he hasn't left my head all day and i wonder what state they're in and whos driving and how does he feel. but i cant call because the truth is etched. the nice girl in new york is nice and i broke her heart. but shell be a guilty memory that strikes as i settle. i don't ask why. i know why. im broke. im gone. im tired. im pale and sick. i can't work and dont like my friends. im cold and alone. here and gone now. gone now. and i feel it hard. i dont want to forget and go about living my real life. fuck this career and this mold. i want to live in that weekend in those bars and in that heart. a confusing mess, i know dear reader for most likely you will not understand. you will not care. i am nothing and everything of a usual blob of drunken sorrow. a girl, to put it simply. a picses. an artist. a sellout. a guilty mess. it was all true and the most beautiful moments of my life were spent there. it's him. i see him. 040209 what's it to you? who go blather from