when_we_were_crayons paste! everything seemed so simple then oh the 1200's! hey, the lights turning green, lime green 020812 ... D y a n n e that would be cool to be a crayon I wish I was one ...except I dont know if I would like the fact that people could just use me whenever they wanted 020812 ... juicy? i was a crayon for halloween when i was little...a pretty yellow one 020812 ... log burning fire we were black and blue the color of bruises, we were in the hands of the little boy who saw his mother get the shit kicked out of her. 020812 ... frAnk we were in a brass tin from mexico. we were watercolor and were used to make pictures for girls we loved, but we were told we couldn't see her apart from work because it was a dangerous place and we might fall in love. 030715 ... alexis we were pink and yellow and blue, all primary and things were simple. we colored our typical happy childhood and then dropped ourselves on the carpet and were crushed... i miss those days a lot. 030715 ... pipedream we were jammed in our yellow and green crayola box; some broken, all of us worn and wrappers partially peeled back from all that colouring...and we were happy colours, strawberry pink and cerulean and marigold and periwinkle...and we smelled like childhood and paper and pine trees that were triangles on a rectangle and life was simple, just colour inside- and sometimes outside- the black lines... 030716 ... god i was burnt sienna, lonely and rattling bluntly inside an empty pringles tube 030716 ... jane i was cerulean melted into mauvelous, with a dash of screamin green grasping on the edge 030716 ... nomme only slightly used but broken with paper wrapper ripping dropped tossed fallen rolling onto the floor meeting up with the crumbs and the dust and one of mr. potato head's lost arms lying there for hours under the couch days became weeks rescued we were found by a curious little jam-covered hand scribbled with our colours bled out of us spread out upon crisp pieces of paper now magnetted to the fridge door destined to soon be taken down and filed into sam's blue square box of first drawings 030716 ... no reason i was chartreuse and could say it when i was four 030716 ... ferret life was good, we all had a place for ourselves, boy, i really hated that kid who put me next to the red one. red was a dick. anyway, i was blue. midnight blue. i like my wrapper. until that same stupid kid pealed it off and shoved his pen in my ass. that wasn't nice. 030716 ... sabbie a crayon forgotton on the back dash quietly sliding around melted and faded from the sun 030716 ... celestias shadow We had order in our lives. We had purpose, and little slots that each of us fit into perfectly. We were used when it was proper. Who cared if Jeremy made the sky green and the grass purple? That was all we knew and to us, it was perfect. Until the day someone knocked over the box and we all spilled out. 031128 ... Piso Mojado . 060113 ... .. .. 090127 ... other when_we_are_both_cats 090127 ... Ouroboros . 100913 ... endless I hated when they ripped the paper off but I always had this compulsion to do it. I used to line my box up by colours. Warm to cool, pastel to vibrant. Sorted by colours makes more sense than anything else. We'll just sort our libraries by colour. No one goes to them anyway. 100914 ... plop crayons are for babies. 100914 what's it to you? who go blather from