Glorious Elbow

Free write for 20 minutes based on a part of my body. i choose elbow. :)

My elbow is bony. almost unbelievable for the rest of the fluff that is on me as i feel it kreek into my other apendages. Kreep with a "K"? And it often seems like it is flying out of my body with no one to guide it, as i hit people i dn't like because they have prettier blonde hair or bigger teeth.

my weapon of choice. Becuase it has an easy "sorry" with it.

oh man, that elbow just was out there. I was talking with my hands and didn't see my chicken wing arms peck your eyes out.

Ha!

I am writing in the near total darkness to keep from editing. My elbow is dry and it catches on a running shirt I have. It's supposed to soak up sweat as i "work out." (ha!) But instead pulls on the scales oof my elbow as if it were small mice teeth. What are you doing there mice?

I'm trying not to think about not thinking and this is almost harder than in class.

My roommate is almost literally coughing out her lungs. Maybe i should've written about those. It pisses me off because i am awake too, but really, I feel sorry for her. Her and her perfect blonde hair and blue eyes. If you'd have pointed her out to me before we were friends, i'm sure my elbow, especially the right, would've nearly jumped at the chance to accidently bump her She'd fall like a willow branch.

My elbows will one day be moisture rich. Glorious. No more mice bites.

My arm hurts.

My elbow sees what i cannot. If it had ears on it, how beautiful! I heard and saw what you said across the dinner party. And now that i know you don't like me, i can stop being so dog, dod, god damn polite! FUCK!

my mom is dsylexic. Am I?

I rang up an order wrong at work again. Whoops. Screwed up more $ @ the cstore. Hatred.

I smashed a door with my fist. My elbow was jealous.

he doesn't get to act out any fantasies. Only passively listening to all that goes on, wondering why he must stay so far away. Even in writing this, he tries to get close to my belly, but she hates me and retracts inward with the repulsion of sauerkraut. Yuck.

Poor guy just wants to be loved.

As i age, his skin will be lazy. As lazy as i am now? Impossible. That was in a french dialect or accent. ok, word. But it is spelled the same.
Oh the french.

With their own elbow sticking out for the world to see. Their tower of lights that symbolizes love and art.
My elbow symbolizes death and isolaation.

Come close to my core, dear elbow. Stop holding the weight of the world, ok...my head in my hand, and be warm with me for a few short moments. Feel needed. Feel loved. Then run back out to the cold where i keep you like a dog gone rabid.

Poor Yeller. Poor Ol' Dan. wasn't rabid. Was he?

My elbows. Full of pain. but not from tennis.

Almost done w/20 minutes. To keep on keepin on? No like i've really stayed on the elbow thing.

Jesus...should've done ankle..as mine screams at me when my foot hangs off the bed. No longer. Poor thing. Bruised and swollen.

The elbow never gets that love and attention. It is the class clown of the body parts, tied in with the shy nerd who gets off as a crazed voyeur. But is deaf moute. Mute. silent. Shhhhhhh

heather's asleep, sick and coughing.

It watched out of for me as i wrote an essay on Harry Potter and The Giver.

My elbow will watch the mourners come to say goodbye to me as they cry. But only if i'm placed just right.