piksee

The Perambulatress

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Perspective on Adultery - Pt 2 by piksee, literature

Literature

Perspective on Adultery - Pt 2

"Shit." Foggily, I creep out of a dream, awoken by the unmistakable sounds of the morning after. Holding still, I watch him out of one eye as he balances on a chair, standing on one leg in an attempt to put on his shoe. I pretend to be asleep as he finishes, takes a look at me, and leaves. His mind is made up, and nothing I can say will get him to stay, so I don't bother. I roll over quietly as I listen to the door open and shut, then climb out of bed to watch him from the window. The room is stale, cigarettes and sex, and it's cold. He doesn't look up at me from his car, but I put my hand on the foggy window as I watch the car start and l

The Paper Mill by piksee, literature

Literature

The Paper Mill

The nurse's orthopedic shoes scrape the dust against the hardwood floors of the front porch, like chalk on sidewalk, as she approaches us. She's wearing scrubs, a bit tight for her girth, and an expression which belies the substantially lower-than-expected salary she receives every two weeks. "Time for the meds, eh Nancy?" my father grins up at her, unaffected by her dour presentation, but keeps his posture steady. Defiant through complacency, he's content to be a pain in the ass, because he doesn't give a shit about her paychecks. "Just a five minute warning," she grumbles, and removes his empty plate from the table. She doesn't look at me

Perspective on Adultery by piksee, literature

Literature

Perspective on Adultery

Written in fine print, etched into the lines of shadow, are words convicting the criminals. It shows in the hollow spot in her collar bone, the wrinkles of the sheets, the spit curl of hair curving under her ear. Her breathing is even and peaceful, the dark blue sheet draped over her body rising and falling with each breath. She has three freckles on her naked shoulder, pointing down towards the slope of her side, feeding into the curve of her waist. Instead of leaning to kiss the freckles, run my hands down the smooth lines of her frame, I want to push her hard off the bed. I want to see the shocked look of betrayal flash across her face

Wanna Come In? by piksee, literature

Literature

Wanna Come In?

Dry blue eyes looked across the table at him. A girl behind the counter banged at the barista, meanwhile shouting orders and taking them. He looked back at his companion. "I'm really excited about teaching English abroad," she lifted her mug halfway to her lips, and held it there, "I really need a break from my natural environment." Smiling, she finally took a sip, wincing gratefully at the heat. "Where do you want to go?" he asked, watching her eyes dart around the room, behind him at the door, back to his face. "Oh, Asia or South America, most likely," she looked down, then up. "They have the most demand, since they trade with the US

Asthma by piksee, literature

Literature

Asthma

The funeral had ended 6 hours ago. It had been icy cold out, the wind thrusting itself angrily against the attendants, making their eyes water more intensely than they otherwise would have at a funeral. The girl's bony frame lay supine on the pull-out couch in the living room of the house her grandmother was now the sole owner. Her mother lay next to her, pushing strands of hair from her face. "Sit up, baby," her mother said. "There's a good girl, sit up, now, put your shoulders back." "Mommy?" the girl asked, taking a breath. She imagined there was a chorus of singers in her chest, raising an octave on the intake and dropping half an oct

My Heartbreak is No Different by piksee, literature

Literature

My Heartbreak is No Different

The day was the color of forgetting A sleepy yawn of hours And I put my head down, to rest on your knee And your hand found my shoulder That was the delicious Happy The elusive sense of relief And you carved out a piece of me And waved your hand over the hole But now you are back muscles and hair I can not find the jade-green river I am not all together I am homesick for the you you were I hate these grey days When you have to squint anyway

Regrettably Yours by piksee, literature

Literature

Regrettably Yours

Regret is a four-poster bed with a stain on the mattress. It is smeared makeup and it is a broken fingernail. It is a hickey on a perfect breast, it is a bruised thigh. It comes out of the corner where so long it sat, looking at you with disgust and contempt. It climbs up on top of you at night and kneels on your chest when you lie in bed, trying to breathe. It is you, with your head in your hands, remembering it all while you try to forget. It is a torn blouse you can\'t wear anymore. It is an awful taste in your mouth that won\'t leave, no matter how many times you spit \"I\'m sorry.\" It is waiting for forgiveness.

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Repent by piksee, literature

Literature

Repent

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Sex sex sex by piksee, literature

Literature

Sex sex sex

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Big-girl feet by piksee, literature

Literature

Big-girl feet

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The Rules by piksee, literature

Literature

The Rules

You wanted to keep the back door open "Just a crack." You wanted to take a step back "Just one more." You wanted it to be on your terms "Show more skin." You wanted me to listen "But you can't talk to him." I wanted it to be easy "Okay, just a crack." I wanted to be easy-going "I guess that's alright." I wanted to be wanted "Is this dress okay?" I wanted to listen "But we just watched a movie!!" We didn't want the same things. You didn't know what you wanted. We tried, oh we tried. You kept trying after I walked away. I took the steps back And wound up on the other side of your back door.

Pedestal-first draft by piksee, literature

Literature

Pedestal-first draft

I am tired of this pedestal Soon I will fall off I hope it crushes you I have no wings to keep me up I want to smash you Break you into little pieces Then glue you back together So you are as cracked as I am I am sorry I can't reciprocate I am sorry I don't want to fuck you I am sorry that I can't break my hand on you I am sorry for hating you I guess I'll just seethe And twitch And wait for the day my pedestal falls And grinds you into the dirt

Disposable Girl by piksee, literature

Fall falls again by piksee, literature

Literature

Fall falls again

Shoes scuffing the leaves on the sidewalk Feels good to get out The last time I walked down here It was Spring. There were no dead leaves. You held my hand Pulled me to you Random kisses. Green grass and sunshine I wore that shirt you like The little white one You wore those silly shoes I can see my breath now Lets me know I'm alive Cars cut by, scattering the leaves And I feel as scattered as they are. These pathetic words Tossed onto paper They will never get it across You will never understand So I will blow away, on down the street.

Plexiglass Reflections by piksee, literature

Literature

Plexiglass Reflections

Prisoner #1003627 "Hey, kiddo." The man staring back from the glass had a beard and mustache, curly hair on either side of his head, and was balding on top. His glasses shone in the harsh fluorescent lights. "Hi dad." The girl looking at him had dark brown hair, pulled back harshly into a ponytail. She was watching a man who had raised her as his own, sitting in an orange jumpsuit in a booth behind scratched-up plexiglass. His hands were shaking, but she couldn't see them. Her hands were shaking, but he couldn't see them. "So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?" he smiled at her. "Yeah, I guess it is," the girl replied, gritting h

Satin Sheets by piksee, literature

Literature

Satin Sheets

I woke up with the sound of breathing, hot in my ear. I rolled over, and looked into that face, still glimmering with sweat from a few hours ago. I tried to wriggle out of bed to get some water, but his arm was heavy around my neck, and I didn't want to wake him. With some fancy maneuvering, I slid out from under him and his arm gently landed on the bed. As my feet padded across the floor, I looked through the thick darkness for my cigarettes. I stepped lightly and cringed every time the floor creaked under my weight. Relief! My cigarettes were on a coffee table, heavy with the lighter I snuck inside the pack. I stopped dea

Plexiglass Reflections-draft 2 by piksee, literature

Literature

Plexiglass Reflections-draft 2

"Hey, kiddo," the man spoke through a little round speaker in the bottom corner of a dirty old window. His bald head reflected the unsympathetic fluorescent light, a girl was reflected in his glasses. "Hi dad," The girl looking at him had dark brown hair, pulled back harshly into a ponytail. She was watching a man who had raised her as his own, sitting in an orange jumpsuit in a booth behind scratched-up plexiglass. His hands were shaking, but she couldn't see them. Her hands were shaking, but he couldn't see them. "So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?" he smiled at her. "Yeah, I guess it is," the girl replied, gritting her te

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Deviation Spotlight

Perspective on Adultery by piksee, literature

Literature

Perspective on Adultery

piksee

About piksee

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United States
Deviant for 21 years
pixie3283.livejournal.com/
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Raleigh, NC
Favourite genre of music: honest
Favourite photographer: Man Ray, Mapplethorpe, Kerry
Operating System: Windows XP
MP3 player of choice: my computer, my portable CD player
Favourite cartoon character: Opus
Personal Quote: "Have the courage to use your own logic." -Immanuel Kant

Favourite Visual Artist

Freida Kahlo, Miro, Kolaboy, Bart C, Magritte, Man Ray

Favourite Movies

Princess Bride, Amelie, Raising Arizona, Igby Goes Down, V for Vendetta

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Pixies, Tool, Jeff Buckley, Tom Waits, Velvet Underground, Talking Heads, Neko Case

Favourite Writers

Salinger, Updike, G.G. Marquez, J. Winterson, Hunter S, A. Nin, L. Cohen, I. Calvino, Kerouac

Favourite Games

hide and seek!

Tools of the Trade

clippings (collage), pen, and paper, crappy digital camera

Other Interests

Reading, writing, walking, running, hiking, camping, music, playing outside

Posts

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piksee

Jan 19, 2007

Things happen!

0 min read

Back in the States. Still haven't updated this thing, though I've been here since November. I've written, the NaNoWriMo notwithstanding, a few tweaks mostly. Not much in the way of real faith anymore in my abilities with the written word. I find I blame lack of inspiration but that's bullshit because everything is inspiring and even when it's not, I could always invent inspiration. Moving to New Orleans in March. If that doesn't do it, I'm a goner.

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piksee

Oct 31, 2006

..and she runs, through her days

0 min read

I'm coming home soon. I'm leaving this crazy, colorful, dangerous, exhausting, frightening, gorgeous country (decided to cut out the alphabet play) and returning to the US, where my president is building a wall to keep people out. That..I won't even comment on. November 5 will find me in the Mexico City airport with two suitcases, new scars, pictures, and more emotional baggage than the plane can probably carry, so I'll drop it silently with my lighter. Inspiration, luckily, has returned. I've been writing more, and am gearing up for NaNoWriMo. Should be interesting to see how my month of readjustment to the States will accompany a frantic

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piksee

Sep 23, 2006

Underneath the Mexican Moon

0 min read

I'm writing this from the apartment in Mexico in which I live, rent-free, as part of the job perk. I speak Spanish now, teach English, and haven't written shit besides journal entries. I'm hunted here, Bambi in boots. "Guerita, chiquita bonita, reinita..." Strange that the inability to blend in, the constant stares and whistles would make me feel so alone. Even stranger that doing one of the Big Important Things in my life would provide me with thoughts so trite. I've had two boyfriends here. The first couldn't stand that I had opinions. The one now can't stand to make decisions. Both fiercely protective, though it feels more like protec