superkitty

Open letter to America:

Please people, we are all sinners!

You can keep your crucifixes, well-manicured lawns and award-winning family entertainment. I want to know about your perversions, your obsessions, your secrets - we all have them so get over yourselves. This, such a schizophrenic land, coated with the shiny lacquer of wholesomeness and sanitized for maximum commercial appeal and rolled up in the big...
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Late at night I move over you like a thin film of moisture on glass, searching for your hands amid the bedclothes. I take random patches of your skin into my mouth and try to fit your hipbone into the curve behind my knee. My fingers rest on top of your head and my cheek finds your jawbone and I fight the intoxication of the...
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Her eyes are unreachable to me, shrouded by sunglasses, black and impervious like the tinting on a limo window and you desperately need to see who's inside. "How's it going," "Oh, you're pregnant again, congratulations," "how's school", "what's been up" - random meeting, small pleasantries, general agreement on issues big and small. Except for the one big issue, the elephant in the room, the one...
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The third and final installment of the Superkitty Teenage Heartache Nostalgia Retrospective. It's been a cool and cathartic experience to air these old writings, but I'm also glad to be moving on to other topics because I have many other things I need to say in this space...

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i slipped into your world
swam through the stifling air
determined
shed my skin
and undercover...
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Here it is, more decade-old melodrama. As you'll recall, I am in the process of purging my soul for the new year. I am amazed at how good it feels. I highly recommend it.

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you are driving me insane
the frustration is burning
bursting out of my heart
any minute now
i might have to do something drastic
i might have to call you...
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Doing some cleaning up and stumbled across some old notebooks from a very long time ago, back when I was very young and very dumb, so long ago that I can now see the humor in exposing some of these works to the light of day for the very first time.

In "publishing" this stuff , I am not seriously ridiculing the deeply confused woman-child...
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My life is a complex collection of pitched battles. I call it, simply, "The War."

It all began in the dark, early hours of a late winter morning as my parents drove, with headlights painted black, to a bomb-ravaged hospital in the Middle East, where they gave birth to a very small, very weak and very angry baby girl.

Barely a few moments old and...
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