<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837</id><updated>2011-08-09T19:33:19.952+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Teaches of Peaches</title><subtitle type='html'>So he ran an Edwin Beard Budding invention over her pulchritudinous feet and ravished her till dawn.
Write to: wheremysecretslie@gmail.com</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-6753394435882096403</id><published>2010-03-17T06:41:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-17T06:48:05.084+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mans's Environment Powertrip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo4bGC8O2ig/S6AtpUbwnrI/AAAAAAAAAO8/nEK9hZT7ByY/s1600-h/hand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 251px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo4bGC8O2ig/S6AtpUbwnrI/AAAAAAAAAO8/nEK9hZT7ByY/s400/hand.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449405737001328306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo4bGC8O2ig/S6AsxuxLKFI/AAAAAAAAAO0/R0uDEbfNVU0/s1600-h/handtoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo4bGC8O2ig/S6AsxuxLKFI/AAAAAAAAAO0/R0uDEbfNVU0/s400/handtoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449404781997795410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-6753394435882096403?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/6753394435882096403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=6753394435882096403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6753394435882096403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6753394435882096403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2010/03/manss-environment-powertrip.html' title='Mans&apos;s Environment Powertrip'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xo4bGC8O2ig/S6AtpUbwnrI/AAAAAAAAAO8/nEK9hZT7ByY/s72-c/hand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-6545778218866231029</id><published>2010-03-08T22:31:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-08T22:33:11.706+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'trebuchet ms', verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;In order to press stop&lt;br /&gt;you have to let it play for a second&lt;br /&gt;Clap your hands over your ears&lt;br /&gt;Shake the image-&lt;br /&gt;Clear your head&lt;br /&gt;Determined not to let me invade the only private place you have left&lt;br /&gt;I stumble a little and stoop to examine the dents in your alibi&lt;br /&gt;(Let me sink my face into your sweater,&lt;br /&gt;I need a drag of the way you smell)&lt;br /&gt;Anything any dirtier than this would turn our fingers black&lt;br /&gt;We shut our eyes and hold our breath and hope that nobody saw us leave&lt;br /&gt;Because this is the part where you're bound to forget me and&lt;br /&gt;I've got your only reason to stay in the pocket of my jeans&lt;br /&gt;Let yourself go, let yourself go, let yourself go.&lt;br /&gt;Body limp against the locked door&lt;br /&gt;I want your lips all to myself for five minutes&lt;br /&gt;So I can scar you with all the subtleties I want to say&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to wash my face and let this song play and&lt;br /&gt;Watch you from the shadows&lt;br /&gt;Willing you to follow the trail of bread-crumbs that leads up the stairs&lt;br /&gt;Past the window that overlooks the road ahead (your escape route)&lt;br /&gt;And disappears into this room&lt;br /&gt;Because something tells me once I trapped you between my trembling hands I could convince you to stick around for more&lt;br /&gt;I lean against you and listen to the song playing in your head&lt;br /&gt;Drum-solo pounding through my ribcage&lt;br /&gt;Into my heart&lt;br /&gt;Music making me tingle and your eyes aren't blinking&lt;br /&gt;But I can guess what you're thinking by the lyrics that spill from your temples in waves&lt;br /&gt;In order to press stop&lt;br /&gt;you have to let it play for a second&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know when I'm ready and we can&lt;br /&gt;Let the silence&lt;br /&gt;Really last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-6545778218866231029?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/6545778218866231029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=6545778218866231029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6545778218866231029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6545778218866231029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-order-to-press-stop-you-have-to-let.html' title=''/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-8865312527300314890</id><published>2009-04-13T03:49:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-13T03:49:54.239+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Ashamed</title><content type='html'>I'm beginning to feel ashamed of my 'poetry'&lt;br /&gt;Redundant and tarnished, like broken pottery burried halfway down&lt;br /&gt;Digging myself deeper with each battered adjective&lt;br /&gt;Faded noun, every tired verb&lt;br /&gt;I'd stop if I could, really&lt;br /&gt;But my fingers just keep moving with no consideration for my mind&lt;br /&gt;So bear with me&lt;br /&gt;We'll undertake the naked truth together&lt;br /&gt;(United, in mutual respect)&lt;br /&gt;Sure. Or at least&lt;br /&gt;Mutual ignorance...&lt;br /&gt;You can stare at these words a lifetime&lt;br /&gt;For they may not dance for you as they once did in my mind&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-8865312527300314890?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/8865312527300314890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=8865312527300314890&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8865312527300314890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8865312527300314890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2009/04/ashamed.html' title='Ashamed'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-7693854412325965304</id><published>2009-04-13T03:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-13T03:49:10.662+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If I had the courage&lt;br /&gt;(and the privacy)&lt;br /&gt;I'd take a razor blade to my wrist and&lt;br /&gt;Press it deep...&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;Scratch that...&lt;br /&gt;If I did any damage it would be with a pen&lt;br /&gt;An ink-leaking blade sharp enough to break the skin&lt;br /&gt;Scrawling song lyrics&lt;br /&gt;Words in uneven lines&lt;br /&gt;More liquid than water&lt;br /&gt;Twice as brilliant as I could hope&lt;br /&gt;Mine would ever be&lt;br /&gt;And when the tip pierces the place&lt;br /&gt;Where my veins run blue&lt;br /&gt;I'd lose a little blood, sure&lt;br /&gt;But I'd gain a little, too&lt;br /&gt;Slow-drip-transfusion of beauti&lt;br /&gt;Blinding me back to life&lt;br /&gt;And I'd lie limp in your arms&lt;br /&gt;Fire raging inside&lt;br /&gt;As you furrowed your brow and began dressing my wounds&lt;br /&gt;Drained of the poison I've been longing to spill onto you&lt;br /&gt;Looking into your eyes searching for tender lies to sever&lt;br /&gt;Maybe kind of pale but feeling more alive&lt;br /&gt;Than ever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-7693854412325965304?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/7693854412325965304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=7693854412325965304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7693854412325965304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7693854412325965304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2009/04/if-i-had-courage-and-privacy-id-take.html' title=''/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5214488902237846091</id><published>2007-09-24T00:32:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-24T00:33:22.197+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Carved</title><content type='html'>"stop trying to find meaning in everything"&lt;br /&gt;'stop trying to find me....in......everything'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to kiss you so badly I have to walk away to resist the temptation&lt;br /&gt;And my skin is crawling&lt;br /&gt;Every strand of hair electrified, standing on end&lt;br /&gt;Because you called me a goddess before I was really even awake and&lt;br /&gt;The snowflakes in this dream are like dry tears&lt;br /&gt;Collecting in my eyelashes&lt;br /&gt;I blink and the frame freezes&lt;br /&gt;Your fingers red and raw and trembling&lt;br /&gt;Holding a perfect sphere of crystal-clear ice&lt;br /&gt;'I waited for you outside so it wouldn't melt...'&lt;br /&gt;So cold your breath spills from between your lips in silver wisps&lt;br /&gt;I tear my train ticket into a million pieces&lt;br /&gt;And the shreds of paper flutter to the ground between us&lt;br /&gt;Ink bleeding in rivers on the hard floor&lt;br /&gt;I want to you to return every second I wasted falling in love with you&lt;br /&gt;Return my calls and my letters and&lt;br /&gt;Disappear into in distant memory&lt;br /&gt;Because curled up on the floor at night&lt;br /&gt;My stomach clenching and my lungs threatening to shatter&lt;br /&gt;All that I can think about is the next way you're going to hurt me and&lt;br /&gt;I will have to walk away&lt;br /&gt;To resist the temptation&lt;br /&gt;Of letting you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5214488902237846091?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5214488902237846091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5214488902237846091&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5214488902237846091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5214488902237846091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/09/carved.html' title='Carved'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-1186006954983635827</id><published>2007-08-12T11:23:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-12T11:23:55.194+05:30</updated><title type='text'>So close and yet..</title><content type='html'>They told her she was gifted&lt;br /&gt;And she accepted it&lt;br /&gt;Because acceptance is tolerance&lt;br /&gt;And both seem closer to dismissal&lt;br /&gt;Than to belief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-1186006954983635827?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/1186006954983635827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=1186006954983635827&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/1186006954983635827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/1186006954983635827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/08/so-close-and-yet.html' title='So close and yet..'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-121643693214601758</id><published>2007-08-12T11:21:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-08-12T11:22:23.240+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Tranquility at its Finest</title><content type='html'>I grit my teeth and grind my knuckles in my lap, thinking about dessert though we haven't even started dinner... I balance the mirage of 'health' with the illusion of 'hunger', tracing the thin line between them and walking the wire between appetizers and salads...&lt;br /&gt;My menu shakes as conversation continues, slowly trudging around the table while I'm shaking, about to vomit in disgust and confusion...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I test my limits. "Please! PLEASE stop talking, for three seconds... please..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No response. Nothing. I jump up, and my chair falls backwards, hitting the floor with a bang, my hair swinging around my face, trying to hide me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen! LISTEN TO ME!!" I scream, panicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No eyes shift. The tone deafens me. I crawl down the center of the banquet platform, my combat boots dragging the tablecloth inches and inches, wine overflowing and pouring over&lt;br /&gt;neckties... glass breaks but the talking holds fast as I scramble through the crowded room, with shaking shoulders and fists... Nobody hears me. Finally, shoulders slumped, I slink to the door,&lt;br /&gt;because nobody ever has....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-121643693214601758?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/121643693214601758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=121643693214601758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/121643693214601758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/121643693214601758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/08/tranquility-at-its-finest.html' title='Tranquility at its Finest'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5751476311959961433</id><published>2007-07-09T03:13:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-09T03:14:13.377+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Swallow Your Pride</title><content type='html'>A series of clicks- you’re undoing your belt&lt;br /&gt;Coins jingle as your jeans crumple to the floor&lt;br /&gt;Pocket change&lt;br /&gt;I have a blindfold on and you’re whispering something about&lt;br /&gt;‘Art’&lt;br /&gt;But I part my lips and hold my breath and wait for it to be over&lt;br /&gt;Giving head to an image of pinched plastic perfection&lt;br /&gt;And you make low noises in your throat while I clench my fists&lt;br /&gt;Fingernails digging into my skin leaving&lt;br /&gt;Tiny half-moons of blood across my palm...&lt;br /&gt;But i’m going to take this with my head held at least waist-high&lt;br /&gt;And you can bet your life&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to swallow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5751476311959961433?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5751476311959961433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5751476311959961433&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5751476311959961433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5751476311959961433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/swallow-your-pride.html' title='Swallow Your Pride'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5326789607358596263</id><published>2007-07-09T03:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-09T03:09:17.084+05:30</updated><title type='text'>li(f)e</title><content type='html'>I used to lie in my bed and&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my Future Husband&lt;br /&gt;A Ken Doll with flexible legs and a fixed smile&lt;br /&gt;And he'd enter my life at just the right time&lt;br /&gt;Tall, dark and handsome&lt;br /&gt;Complete with a bright pink convertible that promised&lt;br /&gt;Never to break down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to lie in the bathtub and&lt;br /&gt;Imagine myself a Grown Woman&lt;br /&gt;Laying a washcloth over my chest I'd press with frustrated palms&lt;br /&gt;At the curves that weren't yet round and the spaces that weren't yet&lt;br /&gt;Empty&lt;br /&gt;Humming under my breath and climbing unsteadily onto the slippery edge&lt;br /&gt;Standing as still as I could with water splashing at my feet&lt;br /&gt;Staring in the mirror and&lt;br /&gt;Trying to look&lt;br /&gt;Sexy&lt;br /&gt;At seven years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to lie on my stomach and&lt;br /&gt;Frown into pages that held fantasies too big to fit inside me&lt;br /&gt;I read about a girl who's first word was Octopus and had jet-black hair that hung down her back&lt;br /&gt;A boy who could fly and always knew what the weather would be&lt;br /&gt;I closed each book with wrinkles spider-webbing the covers&lt;br /&gt;Like the lines that creased my forehead as I pondered&lt;br /&gt;Why I was born so very&lt;br /&gt;Un-magical…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to lie to myself and&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my Future Husband&lt;br /&gt;A Ken Doll with flexible legs&lt;br /&gt;But a fixed smile&lt;br /&gt;And he'd enter my life at just the right time&lt;br /&gt;Tall, dark and handsome&lt;br /&gt;Complete with a bright pink convertible that promised&lt;br /&gt;Never&lt;br /&gt;To break down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5326789607358596263?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5326789607358596263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5326789607358596263&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5326789607358596263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5326789607358596263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/life.html' title='li(f)e'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-7645112129358722244</id><published>2007-07-08T05:19:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-08T05:19:21.869+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'll paint your eyes black with my tongue&lt;br /&gt;And leave dark imprints on your skin when we touch&lt;br /&gt;I'll become earthworm-like and weave myself into your hair&lt;br /&gt;And then run down your back&lt;br /&gt;Like rain&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe spiders dancing on the wall with&lt;br /&gt;Their legs barely touching your surface&lt;br /&gt;Down to the tips of your fingers, stagnating&lt;br /&gt;And letting go.&lt;br /&gt;Then, l'll fall&lt;br /&gt;Fall down down down&lt;br /&gt;Fall down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-7645112129358722244?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/7645112129358722244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=7645112129358722244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7645112129358722244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7645112129358722244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/ill-paint-your-eyes-black-with-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5949928625174401468</id><published>2007-07-08T04:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-08T04:35:54.717+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Pay per Play</title><content type='html'>I see something that wasn't there before&lt;br /&gt;Between the crash of your island&lt;br /&gt;And the hush of my shores&lt;br /&gt;Reading like Sylvia drowning her fears&lt;br /&gt;I'm caught between your cosmic smile and&lt;br /&gt;my martyr tears burning holes through the floor&lt;br /&gt;I tremble soul while you tremble notes&lt;br /&gt;Conflicted dreams of&lt;br /&gt;you&lt;br /&gt;versus&lt;br /&gt;me&lt;br /&gt;(my reality caught in your&lt;br /&gt;deafening crescendo)&lt;br /&gt;lavished on infinity&lt;br /&gt;Blood flows in your air&lt;br /&gt;Tasting irony tales and vodka&lt;br /&gt;Rust eating me dead&lt;br /&gt;Sold your heart for a ghost&lt;br /&gt;haunting love in your world of&lt;br /&gt;pay-per-play games leaving me&lt;br /&gt;gasping for dopamine waters and an&lt;br /&gt;image of you placed in my head&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5949928625174401468?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5949928625174401468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5949928625174401468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5949928625174401468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5949928625174401468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/pay-per-play.html' title='Pay per Play'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-93959320126063758</id><published>2007-07-06T16:40:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:41:02.955+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Barriers</title><content type='html'>I smile broadly as I hand you my knife, your hand fighting your mind as your own jaw tightens with the imagination and realization about the harm you were prepared to inflict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Shit , I can't cut a girl... I could... I mean, I would, but...'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand. You'd be broken, because that is symbolic of the barriers you support yourself on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-93959320126063758?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/93959320126063758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=93959320126063758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/93959320126063758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/93959320126063758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/barriers.html' title='Barriers'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5015446440655922226</id><published>2007-07-06T16:40:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:40:33.649+05:30</updated><title type='text'>And she doesn't feel like anything...</title><content type='html'>Her lips are cracked and her tongue is dry from licking rolling paper and forming careful words like 'I need to go now,' spoken softly and unsteadly to the man who calls her 'Love,' because he can't remember her name. And lying on her back she looks up through the skylight watching the black branches scrape the glass and imagining herself dangling like a dying leaf, balanced ambivalently on the edge of extinction, fragile and delicate and irreparably torn, stained red and oh-so-eager to fall. She clears her throat and reaches for and apple shake, while an internet ad urges her to shell out petty cash to 'Miracle net' and as night crawls up the window panes, she swallows her regrets and chases them down with a bitter cough of indifference. Biting a chunk of styrofoam out of the cup she's been crushing in her hand, she lays out a game of solitaire on the table and plays until she realizes that it doesn't feel like  a n y t h i n g  when she wins; and she curls up again on the floor that hurts so good against her feverish swollen skin. The cellphone rings and she freezes, her eyes scanning the room frantically, struggling to hear herself think over the silence between urgent outbursts that echo off the walls and haunt her vague and distracted headache. Sighs dripping between her fingers and melting into the floor, like sirens disappearing in the distance. She stumbles into the bathroom slamming the door, walking unsteadily to the mirror and staring hard at her reflection. A victim of misunderstandings represented in two-dimensions. She sucks her breath in and wipes the expression off her face, focusing for the first time in weeks on her pale hands, tangled hair, harsh scars, empty mouth and cold teeth. Outside the wind blows and she braces herself for disaster, her tongue dry and lips cracked....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5015446440655922226?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5015446440655922226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5015446440655922226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5015446440655922226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5015446440655922226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/and-she-doesnt-feel-like-anything.html' title='And she doesn&apos;t feel like anything...'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-6802376257778830333</id><published>2007-07-06T16:38:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:38:59.971+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Break the Skin</title><content type='html'>Pretend you're better than me&lt;br /&gt;Exchange smug smiles with yourself in the mirror&lt;br /&gt;I'll sneak up behind you and&lt;br /&gt;Shatter the silence-&lt;br /&gt;That's seven years bad luck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feigning an apology I brace myself against the&lt;br /&gt;Coffee machine&lt;br /&gt;Fluorescent buzzing faintly&lt;br /&gt;under the slow crush of our conversation&lt;br /&gt;Littered with pauses and punctuation&lt;br /&gt;Saying nothing&lt;br /&gt;And repeating ourselves&lt;br /&gt;The red light flickers slightly on my hand and&lt;br /&gt;I check my watch&lt;br /&gt;I've hated you now for&lt;br /&gt;Nearly six hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walk home together&lt;br /&gt;Stopping occasionally so you can&lt;br /&gt;Slit your wrists&lt;br /&gt;Using a fragile twig from the nearby bush&lt;br /&gt;Not hard enough to break the skin&lt;br /&gt;Not determined enough to&lt;br /&gt;Draw blood&lt;br /&gt;Just deep enough to impress me&lt;br /&gt;I shake my head and keep my gaze on the road&lt;br /&gt;Instead of the spider-web-treasure-map of&lt;br /&gt;Tire tracks on your skin&lt;br /&gt;In uneven rows of five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm, dry and caged&lt;br /&gt;Inside&lt;br /&gt;We wrap up in worn kashmiri blankets&lt;br /&gt;on opposite sides of the room&lt;br /&gt;Unspoken curses paralyze my throat&lt;br /&gt;And I watch you flinch slightly as lightning strikes&lt;br /&gt;We hold our breath and wait for the thunder&lt;br /&gt;As if, when it comes&lt;br /&gt;We can finally let go-&lt;br /&gt;As if we can ever let go.&lt;br /&gt;You lick your wounds&lt;br /&gt;Like envelope glue&lt;br /&gt;Sealing in unconquerable demons and&lt;br /&gt;Coating your safety zone with a layer of silence&lt;br /&gt;Four feet thick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your bored eyes paint my pride into shame&lt;br /&gt;And my day dream turns our nightmare into drama&lt;br /&gt;An authentic tragedy, complete with Hero and Sword&lt;br /&gt;Simple with dragons and poisons and gold coins&lt;br /&gt;Minted in your image but&lt;br /&gt;Worth three times&lt;br /&gt;As much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's trade places, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;Victim turns villain, enter stage left&lt;br /&gt;Spotlight spills onto you and you're melting melting melting&lt;br /&gt;Ding-dong&lt;br /&gt;The bitch is dead and I'm&lt;br /&gt;Laying slain on the floor beside your corpse.&lt;br /&gt;Dressed in the costume of my mind I&lt;br /&gt;Kiss the lipstick off your mouth and&lt;br /&gt;Allow my mascara to run rivers of mock sorrow&lt;br /&gt;That bleed scarlet ink across my face&lt;br /&gt;Trickling through my fingers and streaking your cheeks&lt;br /&gt;Like two artificial scars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The curtain slides closed&lt;br /&gt;Sweeping our preconceptions off the surface of the table&lt;br /&gt;As though someone yanked the rug out from under our feet&lt;br /&gt;Somehow our stares collide and I blink self-consciously&lt;br /&gt;Because we're exactly the same&lt;br /&gt; bathed in ironically polarized light&lt;br /&gt;Subliminal and tender&lt;br /&gt;I lay down next to the sliding doors&lt;br /&gt;And watch the reflection of my eye in the glass&lt;br /&gt;In revelation of clenched teeth and fists I murmur&lt;br /&gt;'Fuck you.'&lt;br /&gt;It's the first time I've spoken&lt;br /&gt;All night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-6802376257778830333?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/6802376257778830333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=6802376257778830333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6802376257778830333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6802376257778830333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/break-skin.html' title='Break the Skin'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-8174788507803342773</id><published>2007-07-06T16:38:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:38:18.989+05:30</updated><title type='text'>On Drugs</title><content type='html'>That vacancy tugging omni-directional begging me to fill it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some delicacy with maggot lips and a shotgun tongue ruminating with neon delight, candyfloss brains shriveling in the cold of choked up clouds, dilapidated veins sucked dry blanketed with carrion, that vapid drained river of a vein, that Ganges of addiction squirming around like some dancing cartoon avoiding bullets, avoiding that needle prodding its lifeless tube of disaffection...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A charred volcano of cocaine infection reaches upwards from the ecstatic entrance of his peach forearm and the eyes sit back in the fleshless hollowness of a marble skull...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me that needle you despicable wretch!&lt;br /&gt;Insufflations and then a resurrection of a dragon studded with emeralds and stars slithering across the cerulean firmament. He turns. He tosses me a parabolic smile but i can't seem to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-8174788507803342773?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/8174788507803342773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=8174788507803342773&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8174788507803342773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8174788507803342773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/on-drugs.html' title='On Drugs'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-6328085585531675155</id><published>2007-07-06T16:36:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:36:56.824+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Close Enough</title><content type='html'>We raise a respectful toast to our monster&lt;br /&gt;The one we've been building for years now&lt;br /&gt;In our mutual basement&lt;br /&gt;Under that blanket, tubs shake, machines whir&lt;br /&gt;Children spin legends and back away slowly&lt;br /&gt;We tell them not to be afraid, though we're quaking&lt;br /&gt;Ourselves&lt;br /&gt;I hear your sobbing as I stand in the doorway&lt;br /&gt;And I can't help but wonder if that began just as I entered the room&lt;br /&gt;(Coincidentally)&lt;br /&gt;Or if perhaps you've been crying all this time&lt;br /&gt;And I just got close enough to hear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-6328085585531675155?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/6328085585531675155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=6328085585531675155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6328085585531675155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6328085585531675155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/close-enough.html' title='Close Enough'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-8807282824510762324</id><published>2007-07-06T16:33:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:36:12.817+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Art</title><content type='html'>I want to create a beautiful scar today.&lt;br /&gt;Slice your skin with no remorse. I shall use a sharpened knife and that belongs to me and cherish it forever. I want to drink your rushing blood, swallow it mercilessly, throw my head back and smile at thunderstruck skies with closed eyes...&lt;br /&gt;Ill consume the pain that escapes from your perfect skin and relish the look of fear on your face. Ill ruin your flesh and take pleasure in your almost undying pain due to this selfish cruelty that I've inflicted on you and every precious memory of it. I want to taste you and have the bitter liquid that runs through your heart become a part of a tongue that craves.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I want to create a beautiful scar today and feel proud of my art for a lifetime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-8807282824510762324?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/8807282824510762324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=8807282824510762324&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8807282824510762324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8807282824510762324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/art.html' title='Art'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-1404120476395212550</id><published>2007-07-06T16:33:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:34:39.678+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Finding Words Is The Easy Part.</title><content type='html'>Our argument is fierce and quiet&lt;br /&gt;Poison-dart-whispers shot like daggers through the ice-laced tuesday night&lt;br /&gt;The glass in your hand trembles as you squeeze so hard I'm afraid you're going to crush it&lt;br /&gt;But something tells me you'd deny having such strength&lt;br /&gt;In your fist.&lt;br /&gt;'You never asked me what I wanted!' I hiss through clenched teeth&lt;br /&gt;And you let it drop&lt;br /&gt;shattering on the tile as your fingers leave skid-marks on my wind-kissed cheek&lt;br /&gt;And the scene freezes&lt;br /&gt;A sudden silence filling the dishes and the bottles on the windowsill and your open mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Shell-shocked&lt;br /&gt;Gaping&lt;br /&gt;My eyes slide to the floor&lt;br /&gt;Tracing the bloodstain&lt;br /&gt;Of red-wine crawling in rivers between our bare feet&lt;br /&gt;And I swallow&lt;br /&gt;Trying to take a little of the cold with me&lt;br /&gt;Because it's barely ten and it's gonna be a long way home.&lt;br /&gt;And thinking about you alone in my room&lt;br /&gt;Crying inside below the wail of racing thoughts and the scrape of traffic and&lt;br /&gt;Gentle sips of my neighbours' harmonium&lt;br /&gt;I will be helpless&lt;br /&gt;Speechless and as close to useless as I've ever felt&lt;br /&gt;My lines all instantly forgotten in that split-second when you&lt;br /&gt;Stopped time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-1404120476395212550?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/1404120476395212550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=1404120476395212550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/1404120476395212550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/1404120476395212550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/finding-words.html' title='Finding Words Is The Easy Part.'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-2690349993810490387</id><published>2007-07-06T16:32:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:33:13.508+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Good little Mommy</title><content type='html'>Go on my dear&lt;br /&gt;Be good, be nice&lt;br /&gt;Don't do anything I wouldn't do&lt;br /&gt;Remember to think twice&lt;br /&gt;I've seen these things happen&lt;br /&gt;They're worse than they seem&lt;br /&gt;So go off to college&lt;br /&gt;Then come back to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, hello Husband&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful morning out there&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I'm changing right out of this dress&lt;br /&gt;And I'll do something about my hair&lt;br /&gt;By the time you return in the evening&lt;br /&gt;I'll have dinner prepared and on-time&lt;br /&gt;And I'll surely have attented to all of your duties&lt;br /&gt;After I've achieved all of mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my dear Family&lt;br /&gt;How were our days?&lt;br /&gt;Honey get your elbows off of the table&lt;br /&gt;And put those toys away&lt;br /&gt;Darling not to bother&lt;br /&gt;But didn't you already smoke?&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, I'd love to stay and chat for awhile&lt;br /&gt;But I've got something else on the stove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, my Lover&lt;br /&gt;Everything's fine&lt;br /&gt;I've just finished your chores&lt;br /&gt;And I've just finished mine&lt;br /&gt;Go play with our daughter&lt;br /&gt;She loves you, you know&lt;br /&gt;There's got to be some way&lt;br /&gt;To let that show&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good morning Family&lt;br /&gt;Did you all sleep well?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I tossed and turned&lt;br /&gt;But I'd rather you not tell&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice day at work dear&lt;br /&gt;I love the shirt that you wore&lt;br /&gt;If you need me I'll be in the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;With my head in my hands on the floor..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-2690349993810490387?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/2690349993810490387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=2690349993810490387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/2690349993810490387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/2690349993810490387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/good-little-mommy.html' title='Good little Mommy'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5840021340546555045</id><published>2007-07-06T16:32:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:32:35.155+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>I thought I could save you&lt;br /&gt;By save I mean stop you&lt;br /&gt;By stop I mean trap you&lt;br /&gt;In a firefly jar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know every escape route, the way they twist&lt;br /&gt;And evade you&lt;br /&gt;It’s in the mess that I made, too&lt;br /&gt;A black vein of ink&lt;br /&gt;On the floor&lt;br /&gt;The stain spread fast&lt;br /&gt;Between the tiles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dropped and watched it for awhile&lt;br /&gt;Like a river&lt;br /&gt;From an airplane window&lt;br /&gt;I could see you waving at me&lt;br /&gt;In the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I could change you&lt;br /&gt;By change I mean break you&lt;br /&gt;By break I mean ground you&lt;br /&gt;But you were lost&lt;br /&gt;When I found you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5840021340546555045?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5840021340546555045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5840021340546555045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5840021340546555045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5840021340546555045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5924716986613529557</id><published>2007-07-06T16:31:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:31:52.006+05:30</updated><title type='text'>It was supposed to be funny</title><content type='html'>It was only a joke-&lt;br /&gt;You called me a bitch in front of everyone and&lt;br /&gt;We laughed and clinked glasses&lt;br /&gt;Coffee overflowing&lt;br /&gt;Burning our lips&lt;br /&gt;So now,&lt;br /&gt;Every time we kiss&lt;br /&gt;New wounds burst into bloom and&lt;br /&gt;Wilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I collected lucky coins,&lt;br /&gt;I collected four-leaf-clovers&lt;br /&gt;And you accidentally&lt;br /&gt;Cut me out of every photograph&lt;br /&gt;In your house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monsoons crawled down flooded sidewalks&lt;br /&gt;I spent my days staring out of windows&lt;br /&gt;I searched your drawers when I was bored but&lt;br /&gt;You never hid anything there&lt;br /&gt;Everybody knew that&lt;br /&gt;We had problems&lt;br /&gt;We pressed them lovingly&lt;br /&gt;To our chests&lt;br /&gt;And as they throbbed in time with&lt;br /&gt;Your heart and&lt;br /&gt;Mine&lt;br /&gt;We danced to the rhythm and&lt;br /&gt;Got undressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always fought to our deaths with our claws in&lt;br /&gt;We always bit without using our teeth&lt;br /&gt;So when you asked if you could&lt;br /&gt;Tie me to the train-tracks, I agreed&lt;br /&gt;But now I’m trembling and I’m freezing and I’m&lt;br /&gt;Face down in the weeds&lt;br /&gt;Letting splinters from the rough boards&lt;br /&gt;Sink their needles into me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear the whistle in the distance and&lt;br /&gt;I realize this time&lt;br /&gt;You’re going to win&lt;br /&gt;You’ve got a tiny little smile&lt;br /&gt;About to erupt into a grin&lt;br /&gt;The iron groans&lt;br /&gt;The pistons sigh and&lt;br /&gt;You turn your back on the approaching train&lt;br /&gt;I feel the metal hum under my rope-bound wrists&lt;br /&gt;And watch you walk away&lt;br /&gt;You walked out on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the locomotive’s&lt;br /&gt;Thick black smoke rise through the trees&lt;br /&gt;And when the wind slides heavy across my back&lt;br /&gt;I struggle to set myself free&lt;br /&gt;I tense my muscles and thrash and cry and choke and gasp and&lt;br /&gt;Grit my teeth&lt;br /&gt;And above the deafening roar of the engine&lt;br /&gt;I can’t help but think-&lt;br /&gt;It was only a joke...&lt;br /&gt;and it was supposed&lt;br /&gt;to be funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5924716986613529557?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5924716986613529557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5924716986613529557&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5924716986613529557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5924716986613529557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/it-was-supposed-to-be-funny.html' title='It was supposed to be funny'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-1038464528554952761</id><published>2007-07-06T16:29:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:31:02.489+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Less than..</title><content type='html'>Misunderstood and suffocated by your understanding&lt;br /&gt;I'm stumbling up the spiral staircase trying to rise above you&lt;br /&gt;In any way that I can&lt;br /&gt;and your hands are trembling and your lips spew&lt;br /&gt;Threats so empty I can hear the echo&lt;br /&gt;Of everything you didn't say when you had the chance&lt;br /&gt;But now you're burning (distance makes the heart grow stronger)&lt;br /&gt;And it's all I can do not to scream at the top of my lungs&lt;br /&gt;So loud and shrill that the glass in the windows dissolves&lt;br /&gt;Into razor-sharp splinters and&lt;br /&gt;I finally bleed so red you'll fall all over yourself to escape&lt;br /&gt;But my precious ego is pulsing&lt;br /&gt;Throbbing with imagined injury&lt;br /&gt;As you turn it over in your hands&lt;br /&gt;And kiss every vein delicately back to life&lt;br /&gt;If you only knew how sexy I felt there,&lt;br /&gt;A spectacle on the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt;As a car disappears around the corner&lt;br /&gt;their eager stares still hanging in the air&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm not a victim&lt;br /&gt;Im victorious&lt;br /&gt;Your jaws on the floor with every word&lt;br /&gt;that slips from between my dry lips&lt;br /&gt;I'm sputtering truth I assumed you'd be able to see&lt;br /&gt;From where you're standing&lt;br /&gt;And I'm saving your apologetic gushing for another day&lt;br /&gt;When I'm feeling anything&lt;br /&gt;Less&lt;br /&gt;Than perfect…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-1038464528554952761?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/1038464528554952761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=1038464528554952761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/1038464528554952761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/1038464528554952761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/less-than.html' title='Less than..'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-586917492909020119</id><published>2007-07-06T16:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:27:07.488+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Lovers Bite</title><content type='html'>Emblazoned across his ivory neck rising to an exquisite face of blushing veins and light mocha ponderings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was obliged to obey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He moaned out at first contact, before the pressure truly began, he shuddered at the contact of bone on flesh, a shudder as my warm breath hit, smothering in circles of open lips, a shudder as my tongue tip pressed gently against his skin as if guiding my bite, as if to taste what might be beneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed his eyes closed, muscles tense, his wrinkled forehead and nose and face.&lt;br /&gt;I ignored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to bite down, to truly bite down, slowly. I could feel my incisors slicing their way into his neck, puncturing the softness and inserting something too solid. I felt my jaws tighten at top and bottom, felt the applied pressure as his skin folded and moved and squirmed beneath my kiss. I felt his body begin to shake from the pain, shake from the shock, shake from the bone being driven through his skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't take long to break through the ivory and draw blood. Nothing can compare to his blood, thick and dark red and not too sweet. I felt it flowing into my mouth, over my tongue, around my teeth, down my chin, down his arched neck. I followed the trail of sanguine with my tongue...The blood felt warm in me, my mouth, it felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One can only be satisfied by a lovers blood and a lovers bite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-586917492909020119?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/586917492909020119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=586917492909020119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/586917492909020119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/586917492909020119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/lovers-bite.html' title='Lovers Bite'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-7742745183105661323</id><published>2007-07-06T16:25:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:25:54.014+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mars-Venus</title><content type='html'>I've never really loved anyone before you who could&lt;br /&gt;Play with my hair and my mind&lt;br /&gt;The way that you do&lt;br /&gt;Who could guess what I'm thinking and follow my gaze&lt;br /&gt;Through walls and down halls until we're lost in some horizon together&lt;br /&gt;Kissing softly, lips pausing and posing and parting and&lt;br /&gt;Closing to the time of the clock that ticks four minutes Behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never really loved anyone before you who could&lt;br /&gt;Stun me and out-run me&lt;br /&gt;The way that you do&lt;br /&gt;Who could interpret my silences so accurately I only speak when my&lt;br /&gt;Lips are full-swollen brimming with things to say and&lt;br /&gt;Adjectives that forever fall-short of your beauty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never really loved anyone before you who could&lt;br /&gt;Touch me and move me&lt;br /&gt;The way that you do&lt;br /&gt;Who could pass me a mental note and cut into my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Like a lightning bolt slicing through the rest of my day and&lt;br /&gt;Pushing me pulling me dragging me away&lt;br /&gt;Into a swirling smear of color more brilliant than the sun we&lt;br /&gt;Trip and we slip and I come so undone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never really loved anyone before you who could&lt;br /&gt;Undress me and untie me&lt;br /&gt;The way that you do&lt;br /&gt;Who could break my stride so beautifully that I&lt;br /&gt;Trace every crack and&lt;br /&gt;See the others and pity them for being so goddamned&lt;br /&gt;Intact&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who could distract me and impact me and surprise me and&lt;br /&gt;Revive me&lt;br /&gt;Who could surround me so completely I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Which way is up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never really loved anyone,&lt;br /&gt;Before you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-7742745183105661323?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/7742745183105661323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=7742745183105661323&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7742745183105661323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7742745183105661323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/mars-venus.html' title='Mars-Venus'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-9018374828790667453</id><published>2007-07-06T16:21:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:25:08.174+05:30</updated><title type='text'>xxx</title><content type='html'>You walked in on me turning the gun over silently in my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What do you think you're doing,?!' you hissed between clenched teeth and as I jumped it clattered to the floor in a flash of metal..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You pointed at the door and I lowered my eyes but didn't ask 'why not?'&lt;br /&gt;Instead walked away with my fists shoved deep in my pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard a smooth click and whipped around just as you caulked the gun and took your aim…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I bet you're still kicking yourself for missing my heart)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-9018374828790667453?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/9018374828790667453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=9018374828790667453&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/9018374828790667453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/9018374828790667453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/xxx_06.html' title='xxx'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-6599417693153491185</id><published>2007-07-06T16:21:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:21:47.917+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Never</title><content type='html'>I loved a boy who gave me a necklace too soon in our relationship&lt;br /&gt;Made of jade and he told me to hold my breath&lt;br /&gt;Laying the cold stones against my skin and loving my shiver&lt;br /&gt;As he explained the deep green would bring out my eyes and&lt;br /&gt;Both were jewels so beautiful it stole his breath away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved a boy because I thought he had so much to teach me,&lt;br /&gt;thought I had so much to learn&lt;br /&gt;And he introduced me to his ex-girlfriend with pouty lips,&lt;br /&gt;piercing silences and v-neck t-shirts&lt;br /&gt;I stood there and felt my face flush as he squirmed under her stare&lt;br /&gt;and didn't reach for my hand&lt;br /&gt;Then when he left she asked me if he still talked about her&lt;br /&gt;I hid behind a cage of my fingers&lt;br /&gt;And she looked at me like I was the unappreciated answer&lt;br /&gt;To his rhetorical addiction&lt;br /&gt;I loved a boy who was everything I didn't need and never wanted&lt;br /&gt;And I had far too many 'romantic' notions&lt;br /&gt;that he attempted to live up to&lt;br /&gt;Falling flat on his face,&lt;br /&gt;tripping over poetry, guitars and&lt;br /&gt;A soft touch&lt;br /&gt;I loved a boy who spelt my name wrong&lt;br /&gt;in the first letter he wrote me but&lt;br /&gt;I forgave him, for the gentle desperation of being single&lt;br /&gt;For longer than I thought I could bear&lt;br /&gt;He eventually abandoned me after I convinced myself&lt;br /&gt;I could drive him away and&lt;br /&gt;Plotted to destroy whatever it was that we'd created&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved a boy who gave me a necklace too soon in our relationship&lt;br /&gt;Made of jade and he told me to hold my breath&lt;br /&gt;Laying the cold stones against my skin and loving my shiver&lt;br /&gt;As he explained the deep green would bring out my eyes but&lt;br /&gt;When he called them jewels my soul clenched and&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have the heart to tell him&lt;br /&gt;My eyes&lt;br /&gt;Were black...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-6599417693153491185?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/6599417693153491185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=6599417693153491185&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6599417693153491185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6599417693153491185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/never.html' title='Never'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-5401345289371741722</id><published>2007-07-06T16:18:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:21:24.459+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Lifeline on a Page</title><content type='html'>I knew he was going to die-&lt;br /&gt;The first three chapters had set the stage for disaster but&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't long before her words drew me in before&lt;br /&gt;His pulse crawled off the page and into my wrist and&lt;br /&gt;I could practically taste the sting of his sweat&lt;br /&gt;On my tongue&lt;br /&gt;So around chapter fifteen my fail-proof denial kicked in and&lt;br /&gt;I was suddenly convinced there had to be some kind of&lt;br /&gt;Mistake&lt;br /&gt;Reading each sentence twice, trying too hard&lt;br /&gt;Not to cry&lt;br /&gt;Because the back seat I was trapped in wasn't nearly big enough for my sorrow&lt;br /&gt;And between gulps of emotion I looked up and&lt;br /&gt;Straight out the window&lt;br /&gt;Blinking carefully and trying to keep my place&lt;br /&gt;In the plot…&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought I couldn't take any more&lt;br /&gt;You said you had to run into the shop for a second and&lt;br /&gt;I found myself lifting the lock and slipping outside&lt;br /&gt;The sunshine soaking into my skin and&lt;br /&gt;Rendering me&lt;br /&gt;Momentarily&lt;br /&gt;Blind&lt;br /&gt;I let a steady stream of strangers wash around me on mute&lt;br /&gt;Crouched in an unoccupied parking-space&lt;br /&gt;Trying to swallow the jagged sobs I felt beginning to surface&lt;br /&gt;Dripping tears through my fingers,&lt;br /&gt;Making all the ink run&lt;br /&gt;And through the blur of my vision&lt;br /&gt;I saw you coming toward me&lt;br /&gt;Plastic bags whispering as warm wind drifted between the folds&lt;br /&gt;Your face wore an expression I didn't have the energy to define so&lt;br /&gt;I stood up and&lt;br /&gt;Dusted myself off&lt;br /&gt;Indentations from the road like private scars on my palms and&lt;br /&gt;I exhaled for the first time that morning&lt;br /&gt;Closed the cover and started again,&lt;br /&gt;From the beginning&lt;br /&gt;Just to bring him back&lt;br /&gt;To life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-5401345289371741722?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/5401345289371741722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=5401345289371741722&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5401345289371741722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/5401345289371741722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/lifeline-on-page.html' title='Lifeline on a Page'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-3662210347054990671</id><published>2007-07-06T16:12:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:18:17.859+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Without Permission</title><content type='html'>'it's very important you get the mood in the picture..'&lt;br /&gt;as four o'clock rolled around the natural light began to fade&lt;br /&gt;and you blamed me for all the new shadows&lt;br /&gt;cursing under your breath&lt;br /&gt;pawing through your bag muttering something about how I might pass for human&lt;br /&gt;If you could get this one in black and white&lt;br /&gt;And I curled up&lt;br /&gt;My body contorted into a shape your camera may or may not mistake for real&lt;br /&gt;As long as I kept my eyes my raw lips and chattering teeth carefully hidden&lt;br /&gt;Wrapping my arms tightly around my cold skin trying to contain the shiver&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile concealing all the burns on my thighs and fingers&lt;br /&gt;And what was left of my wings&lt;br /&gt;Scars from all the times I ignored the warning blaze of your hot temper and&lt;br /&gt;Touched you&lt;br /&gt;Without permission&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-3662210347054990671?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/3662210347054990671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=3662210347054990671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/3662210347054990671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/3662210347054990671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/still-frame.html' title='Without Permission'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-7157964954925690315</id><published>2007-07-06T16:10:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:11:14.482+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>It's enough to let your complexities hang. A stillbirth. The unshared anticipation that blooms and begs to be disposed off like a bloodied tampon. And when you let them hide in their paperthin folds and sweatlaced crevices, all the world transforms into a spiral. An endless conundrum. A complex mathematical equation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long for dark reverbrations in the cerulean firmament. Swift zephyrs and a lack of seasparkled noonsun heatwaves. It is then that I will ease my way back home again to subliminal slumbers and festering nothingnesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verbal fornication and calloused caresses seem to have left caffine bitter cuts upon my arm that love sprinkled anticeptics cannot heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will find my clickety clacking cliche within plastic keys. And in time, an endless slumbered freefall with liquid angels dressed in song by my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah. You can almost hear the rain coming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-7157964954925690315?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/7157964954925690315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=7157964954925690315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7157964954925690315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7157964954925690315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-6094520531020198971</id><published>2007-07-06T16:09:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:10:01.918+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Release</title><content type='html'>When you have a thought, never forget its leash. Let it sniff around, explore and familiarize its ever evolving self with the winding conduits of your mind and other oh-so-brilliant thought processes and finally, let it urinate all over you until your consumed by the tenacious stench of this idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when you've had enough of this vulgar repetition, bite your carcinogen tongue, close your nicotine eyes and let it go.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, set it free. Disown it, for it will never be yours to keep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Release from yourself, you see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-6094520531020198971?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/6094520531020198971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=6094520531020198971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6094520531020198971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/6094520531020198971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/release.html' title='Release'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-7823515064305256381</id><published>2007-07-06T16:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:09:06.655+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Say it out loud</title><content type='html'>The lights are blindning and I catch my breath&lt;br /&gt;Just in time, as it was getting away and you trace my jaw as I fight my urge&lt;br /&gt;Struggling softly on the pillow we share with your fingers in my hair and it smells like apple&lt;br /&gt;A scent that doesn't belong in this room with dusty windows and a floor the colour of the&lt;br /&gt;Smoked sky.&lt;br /&gt;You're taller than me and twice as strong and I have to stand on my tiptoes to hug you&lt;br /&gt;The kind of masculinity I tell myself I've been deprived of&lt;br /&gt;As I whisper things to myself and wonder if I mean it…&lt;br /&gt;You touch me gently&lt;br /&gt;Playing with the shiver I give every time you pinch that mine-field that lies where I curve...&lt;br /&gt;Your kisses are soft and slightly careless compared to the crimson I crave&lt;br /&gt;And you hold me at arm's length in the glaring lights of this sanctuary to give my figure the once-over&lt;br /&gt;while I wished you didnt make me feel so real&lt;br /&gt;Pulling on my jacket and letting you kiss my neck I feel&lt;br /&gt;My eyes  gleam as if to say shame-on-you for lying through clenched teeth...&lt;br /&gt;I've got brand new scars now and one more boy to add to the score card&lt;br /&gt;So long it occupies shelves and shelves of tortured notebooks I&lt;br /&gt;Write your name over and over again under mine I press so hard it breaks the lead&lt;br /&gt;And draws blood from the page remind me to be more&lt;br /&gt;Careful&lt;br /&gt;Next time…&lt;br /&gt;The stars are falling and you steal my breath-&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I haven't been guarding it very carefully...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-7823515064305256381?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/7823515064305256381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=7823515064305256381&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7823515064305256381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/7823515064305256381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/say-it-out-loud.html' title='Say it out loud'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-4553672737222859412</id><published>2007-07-06T16:07:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:08:06.416+05:30</updated><title type='text'>So near and yet</title><content type='html'>They told her she was gifted&lt;br /&gt;And she accepted it&lt;br /&gt;Because acceptance is tolerance&lt;br /&gt;And both seem closer to dismissal&lt;br /&gt;Than to belief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-4553672737222859412?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/4553672737222859412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=4553672737222859412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/4553672737222859412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/4553672737222859412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/so-near-and-yet.html' title='So near and yet'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-8383830456266382927</id><published>2007-07-06T16:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T16:02:50.947+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Swallow it Down</title><content type='html'>I'm scratching at some graffiti with a stub of chalk&lt;br /&gt;When you walk up behind me and whisper&lt;br /&gt;'Art is dead, you know,'&lt;br /&gt;Sending chills up my spine and distracting me from the&lt;br /&gt;Four jagged lines of&lt;br /&gt;Accidental rhyme I was trying to leave on the wall&lt;br /&gt;Amid a battlefield of&lt;br /&gt;Profanity and&lt;br /&gt;Phone-numbers.&lt;br /&gt;I turn to face you and&lt;br /&gt;Take a deep breath&lt;br /&gt;Filling my lungs with a rush of hot air and&lt;br /&gt;The spark of the match that you're lighting with one hand and&lt;br /&gt;The thin spiral of smoke that has started to drift&lt;br /&gt;From the cigarette you're holding&lt;br /&gt;Between your fingers.&lt;br /&gt;Embers and ash float down in the breeze&lt;br /&gt;As you flick your wrist and push up your sleeves&lt;br /&gt;And I feel words I've never tasted&lt;br /&gt;At the back of my throat&lt;br /&gt;Dissolving into the memory of every pretty thing I&lt;br /&gt;Ever wrote then&lt;br /&gt;Pressing my lips to yours&lt;br /&gt;I let a strange new poem crawl inside you&lt;br /&gt;And it blooms like a morning glory&lt;br /&gt;Heavy&lt;br /&gt;On your tongue&lt;br /&gt;You make a low noise and go limp and let your&lt;br /&gt;Life-line drop into the dust&lt;br /&gt;Touching my lower back and&lt;br /&gt;Leaning against the rough wall&lt;br /&gt;As we smear the sentence&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to choke out in shaky script&lt;br /&gt;When you walked up behind me and whispered&lt;br /&gt;'Art is dead, you know…'&lt;br /&gt;And I have a feeling&lt;br /&gt;You'll think that I'm out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;The kind of girl who stumbles&lt;br /&gt;Into the arms of the first stranger she can find and&lt;br /&gt;Wakes up in the middle of the night from a dream about&lt;br /&gt;Kissing him&lt;br /&gt;As though her life&lt;br /&gt;Depended on it&lt;br /&gt;But I know what I'm doing&lt;br /&gt;And pulling away&lt;br /&gt;My eyelashes graze your cheek for the last time&lt;br /&gt;Then I'm down the road and&lt;br /&gt;Half-way across town when you finally realize&lt;br /&gt;I was only giving you&lt;br /&gt;Mouth-to-mouth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-8383830456266382927?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/8383830456266382927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=8383830456266382927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8383830456266382927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/8383830456266382927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/swallow-it-down.html' title='Swallow it Down'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565652391474061837.post-3727039003125601298</id><published>2007-07-06T15:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-06T15:52:12.872+05:30</updated><title type='text'>xxx</title><content type='html'>Frigid fingers probe and rip apart, wearing down to the bone in this vain attempt to free herself of something more than this temporary release of parting skin around her hips, and scarlet lines shimmering down her legs: this is her accumulation of lies. She remembers a time when this was enough to bury emotion but the earth runs thin through her fingers and her ghosts make the most of the opportunity - whisper in her head the prayers to vanquish all cathartic murmurs - haunt her till she can barely stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teeth scraping against her neck, she whispers in his ear 'fuck me and i wont make a sound' and he likes it more because she's so unresponsive. (almost.like.rape but with no chance of being charged) she bites her tongue. the bathroom tiles making x-o grids on her knees, she'll play with lighted matches and shards of glass, documenting this into forgiving skin. And when you come, she never makes a single sound because there's nothing left to say. Mechanical motions, tragic beauty. The waves of post-human desire crashing against her soul and she entreats herself to an island where the waves dont reach so high and the moon comes out sometimes beneath this broken sky, going quietly insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as theres physical contact and some resemblence of emotion,she'll fill in the blanks herself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4565652391474061837-3727039003125601298?l=wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/feeds/3727039003125601298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4565652391474061837&amp;postID=3727039003125601298&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/3727039003125601298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4565652391474061837/posts/default/3727039003125601298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheremysecretslie.blogspot.com/2007/07/xxx.html' title='xxx'/><author><name>Skullsalad</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/61/166678463_d253df4397_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
