The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

+ 3 miles on the blacktop is the new balance, and I don't mean running shoes.
My ass is on fire now.
 
He told me: You won't cheat me. You know that I will burn the house down with you inside of it.
 
Love is a winter coat.

He wants me to know via text message that he loves me.

He didn’t tell me to my face that he loves me. I doubted that even liked me. I wanted to go home. I don’t think he even smiled all night. I tried to be cute and funny. It didn’t work.

There were no flowers for me.

And when he dropped me off he asked: Do you have a good winter coat baby?
 
Like.


He wants me to know via text message that he loves me.

He didn’t tell me to my face that he loves me. I doubted that even liked me. I wanted to go home. I don’t think he even smiled all night. I tried to be cute and funny. It didn’t work.

There were no flowers for me.

And when he dropped me off he asked: Do you have a good winter coat baby?
 
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There are five functional fiddles in cases by the door. I wanted to be one of these boxed fiddles. I did everything I could to fit in with the world band. I played an easy pizzicato, I plucked away bad memories, and I made myself pre-tuned to an unfamiliar scale.

I remembered that I am the broken one, hanging on the wall of our splintering life. This is pitch perfect for me, but I will never be in the music pit.

There is a music box on the dressing table. It’s playing the song that I always wanted to be. I can only hope that you will look at me and pretend that I am the boxed fiddle. Where is my soft velvet casing? I don’t know what happened to it, and I can’t remember what it feels like.
 

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Anxiety is my masochistic lover and I beat it with a stick. I blackened the eyes of worthlessness, and spanked the lover of insecurity on the ass with my bare hand. It doesn’t do any good because they like it.

They keep coming back for more of me.
 
I was seeing this guy and we went to Halloween party. I told him he can dress up as himself. I wore red heart glasses and a sundress. When people asked us what we were supposed to be I told them that he is Humbert Humbert, and I am Lolita.

I thought it was pretty funny.
 
He might want me to flip out so he can tell me that I am crazy. I think we are children of alcoholics, and we like the insanity. I am tip-toeing back to my hiding place.
 
That is very funny.

I was seeing this guy and we went to Halloween party. I told him he can dress up as himself. I wore red heart glasses and a sundress. When people asked us what we were supposed to be I told them that he is Humbert Humbert, and I am Lolita.

I thought it was pretty funny.
 
First you suck his dick, then you start finding out what his favorite foods are, because the man has to drain from the love of my mouth, and eat from the care of my hand.

He doesn’t know anything about the kink. I didn’t tell him. I figure I don’t have to say anything at all. When he found out what I was wearing at the party…

He told me: I am going to fuck you up.
 
My lover is mad about the overtime. Apparently he thinks it is cutting into time that belongs to him.

He says he is going to call my manager, and have a talk with her. He is crazy. He thinks he rules the world.
 
He: I want to punch, slap, fuck and kick you.

Me: Does this mean we are getting back together?
 
The meaner he is to me the more I secretly touch myself. The bigger the manipulation, the smaller my voice becomes making up excuses for wrongs that never occurred. And then I become confused because I forget exactly what I am sorry for. And then that becomes the new problem, the one that I don’t realize.

And I would rather be beaten for something I didn’t do, as opposed to hearing the trembling in my voice when I try to speak right-by-me, when I done no wrong.

And then he loves me again the next day, and I am getting used to it.
 
Last week it was all like: "You are crazy, that is your period talking."

This week it is all like: "I love you, baby."
 
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