Saturday 1/06/2007 12:23:00 AM

She kept a diary. In cigarette butts and broken dishes. Metaphors in every inhale. Adjectives sealed in the glue used to reassemble the shattered pieces. She kept the nouns in her pillowcase while she slept. She kept a diary. Everyone does. In every pore of their skin. Every handshake. Glance. And scratched itch.

She kept her pages in little piles. Black lipstick on white kisses. Sonograms of thoughts only partially born.

She kept a diary. Of every face. Every breath. Though most of it remained unwritten. Colorless. Flavorless gelatin molds shimmering on a stage of fractured plates. At the back of a broken refrigerator. She kept everything. Her brain idly tracing every slope of light that broached the glass. While she did nothing. Looking out from behind it. Seeing only her reflection.

A diary. In every glance. of each stranger. A diary. In every person I'll never know.

Nothingman said...

I burnt all my diaries because I was a different person in them...

Travis said...

There is one diary which encompasses us all, and it’s always changing. Our individual diaries are but one word per person in the grand diary of the universe.

Goncalo Veiga said...

Very, very nice blog. I like the concept, the idea and adore the template. :)

Anda then, of course, your posts. ;)

Keep it up :)

De.vile said...

I'll smell you off the pillows when you discard them, then :)

Beautiful post *awed*

ellefolk said...


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