I'd rather die alone

Of all the people I trust, I see you as the one.
Because I don't trust many people. Actually, I trust no one.
But you, you're special because I trust you.
I trusted you. I used to trust you.
Now, I'm not so sure.
You're a quitter.
I'm a loser.
We can never be.
But, you'll always have a place in my heart for what could've been,
and now,
what will never be.

I don't believe

I don't believe in love
so we should break up.
It'll save you heartache and time
so you can find your new valentine.
I'll hate you, and I'll hate him
but it's inevitable.
I'll understand.

Sometimes

Sometimes.
That, is my answer to everything.
When the question is
can you live without me?
No. But sometimes...
Will you miss me if I left you?
Yes. But sometimes...
Do you think we're soulmates?
Yes. But sometimes...
Do you love me?
Yes.
I love you too.
Ok good, but sometimes...

Poetic Justice

I got her name tattooed.
Yes, I got her name tattooed.
We argued and I got her name tattooed.
It was stupid. It was absurd. It was not what I expected
but it happened.
What can I say.

I was young. I was stupid.
I was not scared,
even though I should've been.
I should've dwelt on certain fears, such as
my fears for the future,
my fears of being alone,
my fear of being stupid.
And it all happened anyways.
Stupid.

Best of CL: Some Advice From Your Public Defender

Date: 2005-04-26, 10:49AM PDT

First, let me say I love my job and it is a privilege to work for my clients. I wish I could do more for them. That being said, there are a few things that need to be discussed.

You have the right to remain silent. So SHUT THE FUCK UP. Those cops are completely serious when they say your statements can and will be used against you. There's just no need to babble on like it's a drink and dial session. They are just pretending to like you and be interested in you.

When you come to court, consider your dress. If you're charged with a DUI, don't wear a Budweiser shirt. If you have some miscellaneous drug charge, think twice about clothing with a marijuana leaf on it or a t-shirt with the "UniBonger" on it. Long sleeves are very nice for covering tattoos and track marks. Try not to be visibly drunk when you show up.

Consider bathing and brushing your teeth. This is just as a courtesy to me who has to stand by you in court. Smoking 5 generic cigarettes to cover up your bad breath is not the same as brushing. Try not to cough and spit on my while you speak and further transmit your strep, flu, and hepatitis A through Z.

I'm a lawyer, not your fairy godmother. I probably won't find a loophole or technicality for you, so don't be pissed off. I didn't beat up your girlfriend, steal that car, rob that liquor store, sell that crystal meth, or rape that 13 year old. By the time we meet, much of your fate has been sealed, so don't be too surprised by your limited options and that I'm the one telling you about them.

Don't think you'll improve my interest in your case by yelling at me, telling me I'm not doing anything for you, calling me a public pretender or complaining to my supervisor. This does not inspire me, it makes me hate you and want to work with you even less.

It does not help if you leave me nine messages in 17 minutes. Especially if you leave them all on Saturday night and early Sunday morning. This just makes me want to stab you in the eye when we finally meet.

For the guys: Don't think I'm amused when you flirt or offer to "do me." You can't successfully rob a convenience store, forge a signature, pawn stolen merchandise, get through a day without drinking, control your temper, or talk your way out of a routine traffic stop. I figure your performance in other areas is just as spectacular, and the thought of your shriveled unwashed body near me makes me want to kill you and then myself.

For the girls: I know your life is rougher than mine and you have no resources. I'm not going to insult you by suggesting you leave your abusive pimp/boyfriend, that you stop taking meth, or that your stop stealing shit. I do wish you'd stop beating the crap out of your kids and leaving your needles out for them to play with because you aren't allowing them to have a life that is any better than yours.

For the morons: Your second grade teacher was right - neatness counts. Just clean up! When you rob the store, don't leave your wallet. When you drive into the front of the bank, don't leave the front license plate. When you rape/assault/rob a woman on the street, don't leave behind your cell phone. After you abuse your girlfriend, don't leave a note saying that you're sorry.

If you are being chased by the cops and you have dope in your pocket - dump it. These cops are not geniuses. They are out of shape and want to go to Krispy Kreme and most of all go home. They will not scour the woods or the streets for your 2 grams of meth. But they will check your pockets, idiot. 2 grams is not worth six months of jail.

Don't be offended and say you were harassed because the security was following you all over the store. Girl, you were wearing an electronic ankle bracelet with your mini skirt. And you were stealing. That's not harassment, that's good store security.

And those kids you churn out: how is it possible? You're out there breeding like feral cats. What exactly is the attraction of having sex with other meth addicts? You are lacking in the most basic aspects of hygiene, deathly pale, greasy, grey-toothed, twitchy and covered with open sores. How can you be having sex? You make my baby-whoring crack head clients look positively radiant by comparison.

"I didn't put it all the way in." Not a defense.

"All the money is gone now." Not a defense

"The bitch deserved it." Not a defense.

"But that dope was so stepped on, I barely got high." Not a defense.

"She didn't look thirteen." Possibly a defense; it depends.

"She didn't look six." Never a defense, you just need to die.

For those rare clients that say thank-you, leave a voice mail, send a card or flowers, you are very welcome. I keep them all, and they keep me going more than my pitiful COLA increase.

For the idiots who ask me how I sleep at night: I sleep just fine, thank you. There's nothing wrong with any of my clients that could not have been fixed with money or the presence of at least one caring adult in their lives. But that window has closed, and that loss diminishes us all.

Prologue: Dumplings

Lazy Sunday lying on the couch

watching TV
waiting for my laundry to finish
while he cooks me dumplings.
They're 50 for $10. What a deal. He knows what I love.
I will never get my own laundry machine

and I should do my laundry more often.

When mom filed for a divorce,
it was a divorce from us.
All of us.
When grandma died,
a piece of us died,
all of us,
along with her.
And all we have is each other.
Him, to remind me that life is hard;
Me, to remind him life is hard. 

He never learned to hug
or say the words "I love..."
until I was 26.
He learned it from his father.

Thank God I wasn't born to the oldest brother.
Who passed. 2 out of 4 passed.
My, how the times flies.
Now,
he's making me dumplings.

Still. 30 years later.
To a 30 year old boy.

Prologue: Co-op Adventures

He stares at her in disbelief. He was shocked. She shot him. This bitch actually shot him! And he gambled his life thinking she wouldn't. He covers the wound the best he could but it's no use. The blood poured over his fingers and drenches his shirt. The pool of blood seemingly appeared out of nowhere, but he knows it means his life is slowly draining out of him.

I can feel my heartbeat with my hand, he thought. He felt an urge to laugh but the laugh is choked off in his throat, and he suddenly wants to scream. Scream at her for an explanation. Scream for her to save him. Scream at the heavens for letting this happen. But he says nothing. No words can convey this betrayal. He will die an angry death and no one will ever know the truth. Regret replaces pain as his vision fades.