Disclaimer- you wanted an S&S? You got an S&S.(my version at least. Insert
evil laughter here)
Shelby plunked into an empty seat at the oak table that was at the moment a dinner table, laden with mystery meat, mystery stew, mystery salad, mystery potatoes, and all likewise sorts of goodies that make dieticians and anorexics tremble with fear and disgust. Scott was there, right next to her. There to put his arm around her, there to be her steady, her rock.
pi I love you Scott. You're in love with me. But you bore me Scott.
True, you're all I ever wanted, some one to stand by me through thick and thin. But must you stand so close? You're there, always there. True I love you, I don't lie and the flowers don't lie nor do they bleed when I pick their heads clean. True I know your heart beats with love for me, pumping through your veins, pumping devotion. But must your heart pump so long that I can hear it in my sleep, the bass always hanging over my head? It pounds into my skull, pounds my brain with all I have and don't want. Dare I love another? /i/p
Other Cliffhangers plopped down, chattering about the latest Group and what Peter had meant when he said, "Your own worst enemy is the voice in your head." Ezra rushed in, a little later than everyone else, a little more hurried. "Hey Freakin, you late because you had to pick up the pieces of the mirror you broke with your face?" Shelby cracked, words flowing automatically from her lips that were the perfect shade of red lipstick. Ezra replied but Shelby was already off listening to someone else.
pi And then there's Ezra Ezra known as Freakin Ezra I wanted you, not Scott
True, I got Scott and I'm grateful as a child who received coal in their stocking instead of that pretty white pony but I wanted you. You were to be my first conquest as I was my stepfather's (second, if you count my mother but it sounds so much better in self-pity if I say I was his first conquest). But you were to be MINE; I baited the hook with verbal frenzies but you refused to bite, to take. Maybe you ignored my worm. Is that what it was? Or maybe you were blind to my scarred ways; how I couldn't come right out and say, "Love me." If I knew the words, I would have screamed them in your ear, made you hear them and feel the arrow that came with them, attaching you to me.
I can't say love to Scott. He can say it, he who was marred by Elaine. He doesn't see her in me. But me. he has the build, the hands, those controlling hands. Those hated hands. But I can say love to you. To you, Freakin. I say it in my dreams, I murmur it in my sleep and Kat laughs it off as my wedding to Scott, our pledges of undying devotion. But I dream of our nuptials, sweet fish, of my devotion to you. /i/p
"Will you two ever get along?" asked Peter, coming over with his tray laden with protein, carbohydrates, and the other such hardy foods worthy of a camp director, keeping him chasing after each screaming soul.
"It's a lost cause," joked Daisy.
pi Will you ever love me? Will you ever hold me like Scott does? And maybe I won't flinch with you
I laugh off my flinching, or blame it on the man who burned my flesh with his hands. He doesn't realize that I shudder when we break from a kiss. That's what I get for falling so soon, after you. I can never get you out of my head. You made me fall in love. You made me stumble like a 2-cent whore high and on stilettos falling into the arms of the nearest one around to grab me.
It's the way your mouth moves that makes me dream of your lips. It's the way you run your hands through your hair that makes me want to kiss each lock. It's the way you don't take my bait. It's the way you leave me to myself. It's the way I love alone. /i/p
Shelby plunked into an empty seat at the oak table that was at the moment a dinner table, laden with mystery meat, mystery stew, mystery salad, mystery potatoes, and all likewise sorts of goodies that make dieticians and anorexics tremble with fear and disgust. Scott was there, right next to her. There to put his arm around her, there to be her steady, her rock.
pi I love you Scott. You're in love with me. But you bore me Scott.
True, you're all I ever wanted, some one to stand by me through thick and thin. But must you stand so close? You're there, always there. True I love you, I don't lie and the flowers don't lie nor do they bleed when I pick their heads clean. True I know your heart beats with love for me, pumping through your veins, pumping devotion. But must your heart pump so long that I can hear it in my sleep, the bass always hanging over my head? It pounds into my skull, pounds my brain with all I have and don't want. Dare I love another? /i/p
Other Cliffhangers plopped down, chattering about the latest Group and what Peter had meant when he said, "Your own worst enemy is the voice in your head." Ezra rushed in, a little later than everyone else, a little more hurried. "Hey Freakin, you late because you had to pick up the pieces of the mirror you broke with your face?" Shelby cracked, words flowing automatically from her lips that were the perfect shade of red lipstick. Ezra replied but Shelby was already off listening to someone else.
pi And then there's Ezra Ezra known as Freakin Ezra I wanted you, not Scott
True, I got Scott and I'm grateful as a child who received coal in their stocking instead of that pretty white pony but I wanted you. You were to be my first conquest as I was my stepfather's (second, if you count my mother but it sounds so much better in self-pity if I say I was his first conquest). But you were to be MINE; I baited the hook with verbal frenzies but you refused to bite, to take. Maybe you ignored my worm. Is that what it was? Or maybe you were blind to my scarred ways; how I couldn't come right out and say, "Love me." If I knew the words, I would have screamed them in your ear, made you hear them and feel the arrow that came with them, attaching you to me.
I can't say love to Scott. He can say it, he who was marred by Elaine. He doesn't see her in me. But me. he has the build, the hands, those controlling hands. Those hated hands. But I can say love to you. To you, Freakin. I say it in my dreams, I murmur it in my sleep and Kat laughs it off as my wedding to Scott, our pledges of undying devotion. But I dream of our nuptials, sweet fish, of my devotion to you. /i/p
"Will you two ever get along?" asked Peter, coming over with his tray laden with protein, carbohydrates, and the other such hardy foods worthy of a camp director, keeping him chasing after each screaming soul.
"It's a lost cause," joked Daisy.
pi Will you ever love me? Will you ever hold me like Scott does? And maybe I won't flinch with you
I laugh off my flinching, or blame it on the man who burned my flesh with his hands. He doesn't realize that I shudder when we break from a kiss. That's what I get for falling so soon, after you. I can never get you out of my head. You made me fall in love. You made me stumble like a 2-cent whore high and on stilettos falling into the arms of the nearest one around to grab me.
It's the way your mouth moves that makes me dream of your lips. It's the way you run your hands through your hair that makes me want to kiss each lock. It's the way you don't take my bait. It's the way you leave me to myself. It's the way I love alone. /i/p