Are You Willing To Listen?

so, when i joined this blog, i was asked to introduce myself to, gosh, whoever's reading this right now.
but i didn't want to. i didn't know what to say. i don't know how to sum up, to generalize who i am so you can get the big picture of it all. the big picture is in the details.
over time, you may see through my writings who i show you or just the feeling i felt in that moment when i decided to put words to a page, but there's not much i can say about my interests, my goals, my dreams, my fears that are going to give you who i am. we never really know people.
my name is megan. i have people who love me and people who i love. i listen to music, i write things. i read books. i like greens blacks and greys and breezy Florida days.
i wrote this a while ago. it's kind of dark, but i think it's some of my best work, even if it's not entirely understandable. most of the stuff i post on here is going to be that way i think, but i hope not. i hope you see my meaning. i hope you have had a good night.



A hand finds its way to the small of my back.
A drop of blood falls from my fingertip.
In the few seconds that follow, I know nothing will ever be the same.


He pulls me closer and I take another sip of my vodka infused drink. I don’t know how I got to this point during this night but there is the fact that I don’t care. Three years ago I would still be stuck in my room, typing idly to someone four hundred miles away. Now, I’m letting this beat guide me to places and things I don’t want to be.
And I still don’t know who I am because, to be truthful, I don’t think I’ll ever find out. Even though everything changed, I’m not one bit closer to finding the answer of what it is I need to do. I wasn’t ready for this! No, not one bit. But I jumped into the fire anyway.
But wait, when did I cut my hand? I look at it, while my arms are wrapped around this guy’s neck and we are moving against each other to a neon rhythm. I realize that somehow my knuckles have started to bleed again since I punched that brick wall earlier today. He was pissed when he saw.
Do not think that this is the end of my comic tragedy. You’ve only just begun to see what colors dance behind my eyes. This is just the beginning. A drunk, torn-up beginning with a little sexual innuendo. It will be different, yes, but the question is, are you willing to listen?