Hello my pretty darlings! I know it's been a while since I posted anything here. But hopefully that's going to change soon. My muse has been running me relentlessly. However... this is the only thing I have finished. I'm halfway done on the next chapter of "The Rose." I also have...6 or so new stories in the works. 2 are almost finished.

This one is filled with angst and very somber. I was listening to "How Many Tears?" from Martin Geer as I wrote this. Be prepared to cry. I was.

-Serendipity Kat

Killing Me Softly

Every word… I can't take it anymore. Marky, my Marky… not that I have any right to call you that. I'm crying, can't you see that? Stop, Mark, just stop. You're killing me with you words. Every time you say it, look at me, hug me, anything… you chip away at my body. I didn't want to hurt you and I didn't mean it. You still don't know. Roger knows, I'm sure of that. Collins knows, because, well, I told him. And Benny? Who cares? Not me. But you, my dear filmmaker…

I'm going hysterical, Mark. Mark? MARK? Do you even see me? How can you say that you love me? You're killing me… I'm wasting away with every look… every touch… every smile… stop, Mark. Please stop.

What was I supposed to do? You were spending all your time with Roger. Collins was in Massachusetts and Benny was screwing some rich bitch. You were never around and I got lonely. I never meant to spend the night with Joanne… you remember the night, don't you? Roger was on the couch clutching himself and screaming for a hit. You were hovering over him with a big bruise on your eye. You told me to get some clothes and leave. You didn't want me around to get hit by Roger. You basically told me to go find someone else to sleep with. I never meant for it to be with a woman…. It just happened. And you told me to do it.

You're soft… too soft… all your words… looks… touches are soft. You're killing me softly….

I'm screaming, Mark. My mascara is a mess because of all the tears I'm shedding. I can almost see the pieces of my body falling to the floor as you talk to me.

And now, now that you've found out… you're mad at me? You drove me to it, Mark. You're killing me Mark. It's your fault.

THERE! Look! Half my body is on the floor. Your gaze…your eyes… slice through me like a well-honed knife. You chip away at my life.

STOP! STOP! I can't feel my legs or my stomach. I wave my hands in the air, but do you see? NO!

As I crumble to the floor… Mark…. I love you…

Can't you see you killed me?