Thursday, February 24, 2011

This Blog Has Moved!

Ominous Brassieres has found a new home on Wordpress!

All the old content has been imported and a new post is already up, so head on over to check it out.

Naturally, all new posts will be made there.

The are some little fixes here and there that still need to be done, but overall it's up and running. I think you'll enjoy it. I know I do.

Monday, February 21, 2011

We'll Play Some Old Records

Lovely, what do you think of me? You don't know me all that well, I suppose. Oh, we've talked and laughed and shared our secrets, but what does all that really say about a person? You would argue that it says quite a lot, I'm sure.

You have the most enchanting eyes. Have I ever told you that? I should. They're clear and bright, like you. You're dirty, darling, and you can match wits with the best of them, but you have no venom. I like that.

Now, I've gotten off topic: What is it you think of me? I think you think quite highly of me. Funny. I wouldn't. But then, I know so much more about myself than you do. I have half a mind to lay it all out before you. Or better yet, prostrate myself and let you do it yourself. Dissect me; really get in there; pull it all out. Dirty your hands with my inner self.

The strangest part is, I'm not all that bad. Not, at least, by this society's standards. But yours? Oh, sweetheart, I fall painfully short. I wish you knew. I wish I had the courage to tell you.

What would you make of the thoughts that have been racing through my mind, of the plans I've constructed for my life? Oh, don't get me wrong, you wouldn't leave. Things would be different for us, though. You wouldn't think so highly of me anymore, and I'm not sure I can live with that.

If I let my desire consume me, well, I'd drag you down with me. I'd sit with you on this sinking ship and laugh as we drowned. I want to touch you. I want you to fall asleep next to me. I want to watch you and know that I've won.

It's not about satiating the flesh, love. It's about bringing you down to my level. I want to squeeze you until all the goodness runs out of those stunning eyes. If you can be broken, then I can't be that bad. I can't be that bad.

Don't hate me. I'd never do this. I love you too much. I love you more than I hate myself.


I'm riding in the wake of my euphoria. It doesn't feel good.

The spasms gradually lessened into nothing. The lights stopped flashing. The film was peeled off my mind.


I'm so empty like this, alone. I need people. I pretend I don't, but I do. I need them close to me, warm against me, holding me.

Those lines can get so blurred. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

I feel like smacking myself for judging all those people. "Control yourself; you have no decency; you have no self-control."


I'm a hypocrite, and I don't care. Dionysus has sunk his grip into my mind.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

If Alice Found Her Rabbit Hole

Alice never knew
(But I do)
The potential of that rabbit hole
All the fun that could've been had
If she abandoned all sense
And let herself go

The caterpillar, she did not like
She should have
(I know this, because)
He can share what's in his pipe
And bring about those strange delights
That one most often chases down
Rabbit Holes
In search of

Or that Cheshire Smile--
Her naivety shows--
That can so much more than loom
Out of the dark
(In a frightening way)
With potential to work that
Twisted, Crazy, Rabbit Hole
Magic on her softer bits

Well Alice may have never known
All the secrets of that rabbit hole
But I do
And I wish I could see
How far I could go
(While still being me)

If I turned to the wind and said
"Take my sense
I don't need it anymore
With my rabbit hole friends"
And threw that sense away
Away into the wind
Would I miss it
Or find
It's (really) more fun this way?

But rabbit holes are tricky things
(They're full of wonder but)
They're deep
And if I jump right down this rabbit hole
Will I find my way back
Or will I find I must stay?

"Now, Alice," You say
"Now she was fine
So you will be too
So step in line"
But Alice was blind
(Unaware of the fact)
That Rabbit Holes

Are slinky, sexy, dangerous
Places for little girls
To lose themselves
(In mystery
And Thrills)
To pretend, for a day
That they can be someone else

And if I were to follow her
(To that place underground)
I expect that I'd far too much enjoy
All those lures of the Rabbit Hole
To ever much care
If I remained lost or was found

Monday, February 14, 2011

The Big "V.D."

I was dreading Valentine's Day this year, but now that's it's arrived, I find that I've come to a tentative peace with it. It's never fun to spend alone, but I can work past that. Today is supposed to be about celebrating the love you have with your significant other. Well, I don't have an S.O., but I have something even better. I have myself.

The thing is, we have to spend our whole lives with ourselves. If I had a dollar for every time I saw a person that hated him- or herself, I'd be a rich woman. Who cares about romance when the feelings you have towards yourself are fractured and tainted?

I have a healthy love for who I am, and that's what I'll be celebrating today. I bought myself a card, flowers, and a box of assorted chocolates; I'll be spending the evening eating pizza and watching bad TV; and I'll love every minute of it.

I hope that you have a very happy Valentine's Day.

Sunday, February 13, 2011


It's strange how your past comes creeping up on you when you least expect it.

"Hey, didn't we used to go to school together? I remember you."

Do you? I don't.

I wonder what she's remembering when she looks at me. I wonder who I was then. That whole time is painted black in my mind. I only remember snippets, frozen images. I don't have nearly enough to piece together a complete story.

I'm surprised she remembers me at all. I guess I must've had more of an effect there than I though . . . or maybe just a memorable face.

I remember her too. I remember all of them. All the faces, all the words, all the emotions rushing back--are they even real?

Why can't I remember myself?

He'll Never Leave Me

It seems that, for me, introspection is equivalent to pessimism. Whenever I'm "honest" with myself, I invariably point out everything that's wrong--whether it's an internal or external factor. I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. I've worked myself into such a sad, paranoid corner. I'm so ready to point out every failed friendship, every broken romance that's ever come into my life. I hardly ever default, though, to focusing on all the beautiful ones.

I was reminded of one in particular today.

I'm not really sure how you would classify our relationship. He's the best friend I've ever had, to be certain, but he's also been a counselor. He's been with me through all the ups and downs, and has held my hand no matter how far I've fallen. His love for me has never been affected by mistakes I've made. He's never hesitated to forgive me. He's been constant all the years I've known him, and has never wavered in his principles or affections.

He is kindness, truth, and strength in my life.

He's taken care of me when I didn't have enough sense to take care of myself. He's been there waiting with open arms even when I've ignored him or been blatantly abusive. He's held me while I've cried. There are times when I've come to him a complete wreck, an incoherent, sobbing mess, and he doesn't think twice before scooping me up in his arms and hugging me close until I've quieted. He's tender, but he isn't afraid to correct me when I'm in the wrong.

I know that no matter what happens to me, I'll be okay, because he's in my life.

If only I could explain how I've acted towards him. I have been fickle in my love; I've lied to him; I've dropped him on a dime. I've turned on him in the company of others. I've up and left without any prior warning. I've screamed at him, insulted him, and have stomped on the kind things he's done. I've twisted his words, and thrown the perversions back in his face. I've consciously done things that I know upset him solely for the sake of twisting the knife.

Yet, he's always been there when I come crawling back. He doesn't judge me, doesn't say anything. He just smiles, knowing. He knows me so much better than I even know myself. He forgives me without my even having to ask. He throws away the past, and sets his eyes on our future.

He is so pure in his intentions that I'm brought to tears. He is the most wonderful man in the world, and I love him. I love him so much that I want to scream and sing it from the rooftops. He sets my entire being on fire, and every morning I wake excited to lose myself in him. It's awful what I've put him through, but he doesn't care, because he loves me more than his own life.

He's brought me into his family. He's shown me more tenderness and brought me more peace than I thought possible. I love him, I love him, I love him!

People try to shame me for our relationship, but I've stopped caring. He's the most beautiful thing in my life, and I'll tell anyone who asks.

I'm not afraid anymore.