The Stranger

The Stranger
His hands tremble,
the palms are slick with sweat.
His hair is greasy,
coated with melted gel.
He stinks of ashes
and of hours old stale beer.
He shifts his weight
from left to right to left.
Brown eyes rolling,
cloudy and glossed over.
Cracked lips quiver,
craving one more quick sip.
His skin so pale,
even fresh snow blushes.
He wants me now.
I don’t want him, but I’ll
go home with him.
In the morning I’ll leave.
He’ll forget me,
wondering who I was.
I’ll remember
but I won’t care at all.
I’ll just wonder
who it is I’ve become.
Who am I now?

Take a bow

Well, Matt's off and gone. He left about 4'clock this afternoon. He should be at his parents' house by now. Wierd to think of him not living the next block over. But at the same time, it doesn't seem all that different.

I decided to go ahead and break things off with Michael. We're supposed to meet for drinks later, so if we do, that'll be when I explain everything to him. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but at the same time, I know it's the right thing to do.

Other than that, I've got a ton of schoolwork to do, and I'm not exactly excited to get it started. Yuck. One week down, 9 to go. Eep!