The Journal of Emily Davidson

11/28/2012 03:35 a.m.
so many men
in places
saying this is
" not my scene "

well then
what is your " scene "
and why aren't you there?

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10/02/2012 11:35 p.m.
the boys who want it bad
think i'm too
too busy folding
laundry, or going to bed

and the boys who want it good
think i'm vicious
some predator who can catch you
right when you're weak
who stays up all night
smokes all afternoon
fucks 'til the morning

i am not in the middle
i am both

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10/02/2012 02:09 a.m.
it was late,
that time of night
so close to dawn
when it always

we were not embarrassed
by our closeness
unfamiliar but comfortable

he asked me to
feel his heartbeat
i could feel it
trying to escape

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so simple
09/28/2012 09:50 p.m.
i am stupid
look at me
practically pleading
with an imaginary friend

i should have known
things can never be
so simple

I am listening to corelli violin sonatas

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feelings and thoughts
09/26/2012 11:25 p.m.
what's your excuse
you've got to have one
you can't think this behavior is acceptable
not after you
at me like

i know that look

you loved the way i tasted, the way i
wrapped my legs around your waist and
laughed—you couldn't believe it—you were
drunk more on me than
anything else
you couldn't hold it in
you were excited as a kid on christmas
holding on to everything he can

and i was your present
not sure of where i was or
who i was, but what i was there
to do

please you
i just wanted to please you


maybe we can be friends


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last forever
09/19/2012 02:24 a.m.
my cat
watches me cry
she blinks
she knows
this won't last forever

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the dust settles
06/27/2012 12:57 p.m.
i know what a
fool you are
as the dust settles
and the echo of
your voice dissipates

but there are
always triggers;
the sound of a
french harpsichord
still rips my heart out

reminding me of the fool
i was

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standing still
06/08/2012 07:48 p.m.
some insist
on standing still
despite the ocean's current
or wind's breeze
they dig their heels
deep in the sand
as if to say
i will not reflect
on the past
and i refuse
to move any closer
to shore

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your ghost
06/07/2012 12:44 p.m.
your ghost
just like you
haunts quietly

i made you
a funeral
i no longer
but i do not
possess the magic
to keep your
memory away

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at a distance
05/03/2012 09:53 p.m.
is there a word
for a man
who likes everything better
at a distance?

perhaps it's every man—

chasing a woman who's
shiny and new
gleaming with secrets
only worthwhile in their reticence

danger zones:
the dirt
beneath the fingernails
the words only spoken
in the dark
a tear-stained kiss

to them
closeness cancels curiosity
and nothing is anything
without space

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