The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

[sweepthefloor]

If I could, I'd tenderly gather your heart bits by candlelight and then tickle and nudge them until they flutter about and then settle into a sort of muddled memory mosaic. I would name it "second chance", hang it in a worthy gallery, and then sip tea and wait with you until love finally comes to take you home.

I was hanging on the wall of some gallery, in some city. The artist seemed insane to me. I was a little girl. She would pick me up on Saturdays. I would sit still in her scary studio that had large windows. She dressed me in golden drapery.

She painted my eyes two different shades of my color. I was disturbed by this and informed her that she messed up my eyes. I think she did his eyes that way too.

She told me they weren’t messed up. She told me they were perfect that way.

 

[sweepthefloor]

The cup cabinet is empty like our hearts. All the cups are gone. We are drinking coffee from the mason ball jar again. We are canning caffeine with no cream.

I walked into the sun through the field with my red washing bucket trailing his September swagger. I look to my feet, and walk in the shadow. My weakness is sneaky and hidden.

I collect these cups like confidence into my life bin. I walk back tall so he doesn’t see me small, and feel my hurt.

 

[sweepthefloor]

And we travel away and journey back to the same people, the same feelings, and the same state of our ache. These are our true friends. The kind eyes, behind mean eyes, underneath hurt eyes, that don’t do any talking.

We are lost because some turn on the road was the wrong exit, and jug handles do not exist. There are others, and lovers at the rest stops of life, and when they leave us unknowing, we know they never knew us.

We have black eyes and broken spirits and we hold tight in the night whispering about storms passing.

We decided to cuddle on the hard wood floor with a blanket. This is what people do, I said. He said we should take off our clothes, so we did. He stroked my face. He traced my eyebrow with his finger. There was no notable erection. I asked him if I was pretty enough for fucking. He said I was too beautiful for fucking. His face looked so sad.

I told him he was vulgar, and insane. We got dressed with our backs to each other. And then we laughed.

 

[sweepthefloor]

this one time ew

I softened up my body, accepting. He whispered in my ear: get it girl, get it.

I hardened up my body, rejecting. Get what? Your dick is a mouse and my pussy is the cat? Your manhood is a rat and my womanhood is your hiding hole? My heart is a fat feline ready to pounce on a mutual orgasm that will make me love you?

I don’t fucking think so.

 

[sweepthefloor]

One two buckles my shoe
Three four locks the door
Five six sucks on dicks
Seven eight beats me straight
Nine ten ten ten ten ten ten

 

[sweepthefloor]

ten ten ten ten I am still slopping around too lazy to buckle my own shoe. It was the weekend work.

Thoughts of this weekend working makes being dumb on dates with men more fun. It is like a really big secret. Don't tell anyone. Ok?

 

[sweepthefloor]

Me: I know you like me and all, but if you are not going to beat me sometimes, I just can’t imagine sleeping with you.

He: What the fuck is wrong with you girl? I will take care of you.

Me:

He: Just shut up.

Me: I didn’t say anything.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

Me: I know you like me and all, but if you are not going to beat me sometimes, I just can’t imagine sleeping with you.

He: What the fuck is wrong with you girl? I will take care of you.

Me:

He: Just shut up.

Me: I didn’t say anything.

I think he has a disconnect between his ears and his brain.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Guilty delete!

 

[JamieJ424]

Some men. But even a man who controls you sexually can defer to you professionally.

I don't want sexual power over men. Is it just me, or does that seem to be what men want?

 

[sweepthefloor]

Some men. But even a man who controls you sexually can defer to you professionally.

You are right Jamie. I wildly assumed via text messaging that ‘keeping them in line’ was a sex driven thought. That is my brains default.

I didn’t imagine my other skills to be relevant to builders.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I deleted the post because guilt poked me in the eye with its hot stick when I read the words that I wrote. I escaped him last year but he came back. This go round he says that no is not an option for me. He’s made reservations and is picking me up at 7pm. And he told me: Wear a dress.

I am figuring that if I don’t have to think about it, I will give it a try. If all I have to do is look good at 7pm, I can do that.

 

[sweepthefloor]

When I first got my period and my Dad found out, he said: It's just one of those things in life you got to be clean about.

I said: Ok.

 

[sweepthefloor]

This morning I was cleaning the kitchen. My hair was still sponge rolled. The wet mop was in my hand. My old man came up to me and asked: You don’t got a man yet, or what?

I gave him my best exaggerated startled look, and started wailing into the mop handle the song on the radio:
"When you told me you didn't need me anymore..
Well you know I nearly broke down and cried
When you told me! You didn't need me anymore!
Well you know, I nearly broke down and died

Oh! Darling, please believe me
I'll never let you down oh believe me darling wooooo"

He spilled his coffee on the clean floor, and walked out the door. I chased after him, still singing.

When he got half the way to his truck he decided to turn around and look at me. I waved and yelled: Have a good day!

 

[JamieJ424]

This is excellent stuff.

J

 

[sweepthefloor]

This is excellent stuff.

J

J., I could go on, and on, and on... Tonight I have decided to go with the peach nude look. I figure it will accentuate my bright red lips. I imagine me a multi media with sheer fabrics, and in the center there is a red box with rounded corners, smeared with thick red paint.

And pearls. I will wear fake pearls on my bilateral wrists as a symbol of my cheap self imprisonment. Maybe I will bite on them when he is not looking like a wild animal in a trap desperate to get free.

The prettier I look, the better it will feel if he fucks me up.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

J., I could go on, and on, and on... Tonight I have decided to go with the peach nude look. I figure it will accentuate my bright red lips. I imagine me a multi media with sheer fabrics, and in the center there is a red box with rounded corners, smeared with thick red paint.

And pearls. I will wear fake pearls on my bilateral wrists as a symbol of my cheap self imprisonment. Maybe I will bite on them when he is not looking like a wild animal in a trap desperate to get free.

The prettier I look, the better it will feel if he fucks me up.

We'll hope he has a good belt... and more guts than that other fellow.

 

[sweepthefloor]

We'll hope he has a good belt... and more guts than that other fellow.

It is the same fellow. We have to be fair to the man. We can't have him belting me so soon. It wouldn't feel right. I have to like him first so that it has some kind of weight. Any man can strap my backside, but who will choke my heart out?

 

[Curious_in_Cali]

... Any man can strap my backside, but who will choke my heart out?

Amen.

 

[sweepthefloor]

He: You won’t be seeing other guys.
Me: You are not my husband.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I sprayed pepper spray mace into my underwear, just in case he thought licking my pussy would be a good idea.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

I sprayed pepper spray mace into my underwear, just in case he thought licking my pussy would be a good idea.

Owww.



Methinks that might have some effect on *you,* too...

 

[JamieJ424]

That could not have worked out well for you either.

J

 

[sweepthefloor]

Ok, maybe I will try hot spicy sauce, or that anti-thumb sucker spray instead of pepper mace.

 

[JamieJ424]

Or maybe you could put one of those cones they put on dogs around his neck