Sunday, January 23

Lolita



She haunts me when ever I close my curious eyes. She visits me in my bed when I finally go to sleep. She sings to me when I drink to much. The girl from the alley wraps her stick-thin legs covered with ripped stockings around my conscious when ever I let go. Last night when I was sound a sleep thanks to Tramadol and blanc de blances she softly whispered in my ear
You will go down with me

And I believed her. Now, awake and semi-clear minded I still do.

8 comments:

n said...

I wish I could print all your entries and make a book of them and then read them all like that. The book would have a beautiful vintage cover and a book mark made of lace.

(There are just two pills of tramadol left in my cosmetic purse, I try not to touch them and save them for worse times,if those are possible)

n.

Liber Avem said...

She haunts me too.
but I've become decent at ignoring her.

Anonymous said...

How charmingly poetic this is. I wonder how many males are haunted by the image of Humbert.

mais said...

how to escape the silence when it grips so hard your breath hitches? how, when you are effaced by the things that cannot be said? have you found the answer? i am numb and feeling too much all at once and the words catch in my throat or my fingers and i can't find a way out. when you find it let me know, will you?

xx x

Aurélie said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

I have dreams like that too. Ones wherein the 'truth' in them feels so real that it still lingers hours after I am awake, even when logic tells me they can't be true, the lies still stick and convince me of their ways.

m. said...

last line, beautiful.
xox

Yelena Starikova said...

Wow! It is amazing!!! You definitely know how to wright!!!


Yelena
http://www.glamthings.com/