I decided to do something a little different today (what else is new?). Taking only the titles from songs by pop star Ke$ha (whom I wholeheartedly do not recommend, by the way), I made up my own poems and stories. I did not try to make stories out of Ke$ha's songs themselves, as I am not all that familiar with most of them anyway. I merely "stole" her titles and wrote my own pieces. These 7 poems, drabbles (100 words), drabble-and-a-half (150 words), and double-drabbles (200 words) comprise the first 7 songs on Ke$ha's debut album, Animal. If I feel like following this up in the future (and I probably will, knowing me), I'll write stories and poems from the final 7 songs of that album on the next go-round. I hope you'll find these to be at least somewhat interesting. If not, oh well, I still like them. By the way, they're all 100% fiction. None of the stories or poems is based on any one person in real life – they're all (including the "I" characters) products of my prolific imagination. Enjoy!
"Your Love Is My Drug" (Drabble)
Yesterday when you blew me a kiss, I caught it with both hands, carefully dropped it in a centrifuge, and spun it out till all that was left was your love for me. I inserted a syringe into what looked like thin air and pulled back the plunger. I grimaced at the needle's super-sharp point, knowing it would hurt like crazy when it pierced my skin. But I also knew it would be worth every second of the pain. Because your love is my drug. My fix. My reason to carry on. And there's no such thing as too much.
"Tik Tok" (Poem)
The clock is ticking
Time's expiring
Ripe for the picking
Or for the firing.
What's your decision?
You have to make one.
Take me or leave me –
You have to take one.
Tik Tok.
"Take It Off" (Drabble-And-A-Half)
"We're not paying for that appetizer."
"Why not?"
"There was a fly in the sauce."
"Well, honey, this is a French restaurant – maybe it was one of the ingredients."
"I don't care. It's nasty, and we're not paying for it."
"So you want me to tell the waiter to take it off our check?"
"That's exactly what I want you to do."
"But, honey, this is embarrassing."
"I don't care if you turn fifty shades of red, just get the waiter to take it off. We're not paying for it!"
"Look, honey..."
"Don't 'look, honey' me. Either he'll take it off the check, or you'll ask to see the manager!"
"Me?"
"Of course. You're the man."
"But, honey..."
"What?"
"How am I supposed to explain why –"
"I don't care how you explain it –"
"Wait, let me finish. How am I supposed to explain why you ate the entire appetizer anyway?"
"Kiss N Tell" (Double-Drabble)
Kissandra always knew she'd meet the man of her dreams in a library. She'd been dreaming about it since she was eight years old. The fact that she spent the majority of her free time outside of school and work at the local library did much to ensure that her dream would eventually come to fruition. It was simply the law of averages. Kissandra was more than a little preoccupied the day she met Teller. It was final exams week, and she had been working long night shifts at the café and hadn't had much time to study. Exhausted, she'd fallen asleep face-down on her open textbook. Teller, the new library intern, approached Kissandra to wake her. She looked up, glassy-eyed, at the handsome young man standing before her. He smiled shyly, pointed to the "No Sleeping" sign at the center of the study table, and casually walked away. Though it wasn't how she'd dreamed it, Kissandra knew that this man was "the one." How she knew she couldn't then have put into words, but she knew. She closed her textbook, turned back to glimpse at the retreating figure of the man, and took the first step toward her destiny.
"Stephen" (Drabble)
Stephen entered the hotel room at precisely 4pm. Dropping his bags, he went straight to the bathroom and began examining the towels and washcloths for signs of stains. Leaning over the tub, he inspected the drain for hair. Satisfied, Stephen proceeded to the bed, pulled back the comforter and sheets, removed pillows from pillowcases and sniffed each one carefully. He carefully scrutinized the desk's surface and the back and seat of the chair. Stephen turned on the television, and immediately his jaw dropped. Gathering his bags, he returned to the front desk. "I'm leaving," Stephen said. "My room was filthy."
"Blah Blah Blah" (Poem)
Sometimes I listen to you
Sometimes I don't.
Sometimes you'll hear me
Sometimes you won't.
Sometimes when you speak
I just hear "blah blah blah."
Sometimes when I talk
You just say "la de da."
Sometimes I think that
We just don't connect.
But when I don't listen
What should I expect?
And when you don't listen
What else can I say?
I guess we just let
Ourselves get in the way.
"Hung Over" (Poem)
I shouldn't have leaned
As far as I did.
Standing on the edge
I easily slid.
And now I'm falling
I'm reaching out
For something to stop me.
And all about
Me, images blurring
As down I go
And halfway down
I surely know –
That this will be
The last mistake
I'll wish I didn't
Have to make.
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