All Dressed Up

She sighs and turns off the blaring TV. It has been three hours. Three hours since she called them. Three hours since she had heard the laughing, the party in the background.

They'd said, "We'll call you back in a second, okay?"

The hours had gone by slowly as she sat with the phone in her hand.

Three hours ago, she'd put on a nice shirt, her favorite jeans, and a pair of flip-flops. Three hours ago, she straightened her hair. Three hours ago, she'd even put on makeup.

All dressed up with no place to go.

She looks down at the phone and holds back tears. She looks up at the clock and shakes her head. Almost midnight. Almost curfew.

She gets up from her chair and trudges upstairs. She pulls her hair out of her face and wipes off her makeup. She changes into her pajamas and crawls into bed, pulling her blankets tight around her.

She cries alone, wondering if they did it out of spite or if they just forgot. It doesn't matter. She is still alone.

All dressed up with no place to go.

-I hate it when that happens.-

<\3 = brittany

The Cost

midnight calls on my birthday
crazy runs through the rain
long drives to nowhere
swinging in our skivvies
the price of being my friend.

you're the one willing to pay it.


midnight calls on my bad days
crazy runs through the tears
long drives to anywhere away from here
swinging to my rescue
the price of being my friend.

thanks for it all
you're the first
who, through the good times and the bad,
really cared.
I can't believe it.
I had given up.
you gave me the drive
to move on.

because of
midnight calls on my birthday
crazy runs through the rain
long drives to nowhere
swinging in our skivvies.
you've paid the price.
paid the rent.
given me the gift I asked for.
thank you for being my friend.

-Wrote this a while ago, around my birthday, for a friend of mine. She's always there, ya know?-

<3 = brittany

Acting the Part

she wonders
if maybe someday
she will have the chance
if maybe someone
will be blind to her flaws
if maybe something
will change
because right now
all people see
is the mangy, coarse beast
the horns, the claws, the tail
the things that get in her way
sometimes she feels so alone
this girl who never went to prom
this girl who never held anyone's hand
people think she's happy this way
they think she's happy alone.
I'm not, I never was.
she screams to the unconcerned,
to the unfeeling, to the crowd.
she just wanted to be liked.
she just wanted to be wanted.
that's all.
is that too much to ask?

-Meh, I know high school relationships are stupid and unimportant, but I still wish.-

<3 = brittany

Water Polo

I hate swimming.
working myself into a tizzy
I hate:
cramping legs
stinging eyes
frizzy hair
aching arms.
but I do it anyway
why?
because I love this game.
I love:
stealing the ball
defending our cage
making a goal
blocking a pass.
and not only do I love the game,
I love:
ten swim-suited girls in a hotel bathtub
singing during warm-ups
long bus rides
mohawks in the showers.

I love this game.
so beating myself up to play it
is well worth it.
I get just as much back as I put in.
maybe more.

I love this game.

-I do love water polo. :D <3-

<3 = brittany

Cast

believe me.
it's hard.
it's really hard.
I thought I had a place.
I thought I held a part.
I thought I was "in".
but I don't make a difference.
because, without me, nothing changed.
it's so hard to see
all your friends leaving without you.
it's so hard to hear
about the things they do without you.
it's so hard to know
that they're just fine without you.
I hate it.
I want to have a place.
I want to hold a part.
I want to be "in".
because it makes a difference
to me.
because everything changes
in me.
I miss them.
but I don't know if they miss me.
and that's the hardest thing.

-I'm getting the no-musical blues, that's all.-

<|3 = brittany

Dance

She smiles as he dances like a fool, trying to impress her. She laughs as he holds her hands in his, taking her with him on his wild romp. His eyes glitter with delight as she squeezes his hands, tickles his palms. Giggling with excitement, they hold each other close, tickling and nuzzling and kissing.

And she finds herself alone. His sweet lips, his shining eyes, his ever-loving arms, his lean legs, all gone. Nothing more than a flight of fancy. She reaches for the memory of him, trying to find the place he has gone to. But it's no use. He is nowhere to be found. She cannot see him, cannot hear him. He is gone.

The empty laughter dies, the smile fades from her face. Quietly, slowly, she becomes herself again. The deep lines of a frown are etched into her skin, her hands are c0ld, she is alone. His warmth is gone. It has been gone for a long, long time.

She cannot remember the last time he came to her. But every time, it has ended like this. His ever-loving arms gone from around her shoulders, his sweet lips gone from her cheek.

The old woman sobs, her thin shoulders quaking with grief. She buries her ancient, wrinkled face in her ancient wrinkled hands. She weeps.

And while she weeps, she waits.

She waits for him to dance again.