Friday, October 31, 2008

If you're honest...

...sometimes you can get the truth.



Your Element Is Fire



Your passion and emotion are as obvious as the brightest flame.

You make sparks fly, and your passion always has the potential to burst out.



You are exciting and creative - and completely unpredictable.

You sometimes exercise control, and sometimes you let yourself go.



Friends describe you as sensitive, spirited, and compulsive.

Bright and blazing with intensity, you seem mysterious and moody to many.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Psalm 6:6

I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.


I only wish I could craft verse as fluid as this...

Monday, October 27, 2008

Held Close, Far Away

I stand in the wind and drink it
Like a cup of dark tea
The leaves strike my face and I can't see them coming
So dark, the moon behind clouds
Unrestrained, my new wings glimmer
Black and glittering
So long and graceful and beautiful
It surprised me, the beauty
I glory in the feeling with my wings folded
I am just a creature in the night held close
Just a creature held close
Held close

Dare I think of the past?
I do
All the beauty drains away
The Book is not evil...the Book is not evil
Yet I no longer read
The words that came so easily hold only pain
"For I have eaten ashes like bread, and mingled my drink with weeping"
Oh, the weeping!
I eat and drink liberally
Or at least I used to
It was his favoured punishment
Read until you are what I want you to be!
Kill what you are until you are what I want!
Die!
Die!
And like that I turn away
Because now I can
Now I am free

The wind is my tea
I am the clouds
I am the sea
I am what I am what I am
He isn't here
And I am not afraid to be this creature
This creature held close
I am held close
Held close


I'm the darkness in your soul
I'm the burnt edge on your toast
The bitter tang in your tea
The cloud above the sea...
Faithless?
I believe
I believe dancing is graceless

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Tearing Off Their Wings

There's a man standing on a book
He screams into the world
I hear his screams and turn away
Away from the madness and hate
Like the rest are turning or dying
I walk from the man

He doesn't love, this man
Just stands on his book and yells
I'm tired of waiting for coherence
I'm tired of pretending ignorance
I am who I am what I am
And not even the Reaper will change me

A man tearing off angel's wings
He almost got mine
I saw him take so many
Before I lost my mind

He doesn't pause to consider
Just screams louder with each day
I am deaf to his moronic ideas and pleas
I am the darkness that got away
He is the slayer of innocence
And he loves to kill my hope

A man tearing off angel's wings
He almost got mine
I saw him take so many
Before I lost my mind

He is the man in the closet
The monster under my bed
I fear to walk and talk and sing
Because of all he's said
The man on the book thinks he is righteous
But the man on the book will fall

A man tearing off angel's wings
He almost got mine
I saw him take so many
Before I lost my mind

Goodnight, man on the book
I'll see you in hell
You've killed so many souls
Yes, you've served Satan well

Thursday, October 16, 2008

-

And there in the corner
And there in the tree
Blue flowers
I'm ready to go home

Screaming

Let me out
Let me in
I am the shadow among you
Through the valley
I am death

A hundred fields
Million little fingers
Blue flowers
They are ready to go home

Screaming

Let me out
Let me in
I am the voices among you
From the wind
I am death

Friday, October 10, 2008

Thus thy heart...

I'm so close to the edge
So close to breaking down again
Again


Man, I'm so weak

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Babble

Work full time, school part time, it's slaying me. I don't ever want to wake up anymore. Do I dream? Sometimes. There's always a tragedy. Last night I dreamt I had wings, pretty wings, and I could fly, but there was this building that was going to be blown up and I had to help save the people in there, the ones who wouldn't leave. There were others who had wings, and they were helping me.

I know I'm dreaming because I can't feel anything from the people around me. IRL I can always feel the people around me. I know that I'm not alone, I'm never alone. But in my dreams, they are cardboard. Puppets.

I wouldn't trade the empathy for anything.

I breathe. Do I breathe? I breathe. Do I breathe?

I sold my soul back to that voice in my head. I haven't been able to write, now that I'm happy. I needed something to help me. Sold my soul, but just for the price of my time, not my blood. It's nice not being the only thing in my head anymore. I missed that.

It's not like Kaida likes to be disturbed.

Was it okay? I miss writing. I've got a plan, though. Spend time in the cemetery and write. I feel like I belong there, it's mine. It's mine.

Got to leave for work in five minutes, haven't done anything to get ready. Sometimes I just don't care. I'm so stressed out, so many things I have to do. It really kills me, being stretched so thin. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm so helpless in the face of all that I must do.

Aodhan doesn't feel he has to help.

There in theory, not practice, which doesn't do a hell of a lot for me. Last night he said that I just had to ask and he'd help me with the dishes. A few minutes later, I asked. "Do you need to do that right now? Right this second?" Well, no, I don't need to do anything at all right at any second, I could just sit in the corner and do nothing. But I'm trying not to put shit off anymore.

I did it myself.

He didn't remember, which is fine. I never feel like I'm good enough for him. I confess, I don't feel like he's good enough for me, sometimes. I feel so much older than him, even though he's two years older than me. He's still such a little boy. I know it'll change, but will he still need me, then? Will he change so much he outgrows me?

The thought doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would.

Sex. It's nice having our own place now. Good things happen, if you catch my drift. But...not what I need. I need pain, just pain, not love, sometimes. Just pain and anger and darkness and humiliation. I'm a freak. But I'm going to die without that.

Empty with a touch of whipped cream.

Blah. I talk and talk and whine and whine. I don't have too much to complain about. Just enough that there is something to say.

I sold my soul again. Is it bad that I like it?
 
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