FlashFlashFlash

Interlude played out with silken thread
Hushed audience awaiting a bitter end:

Who, then, will rise upon the stage?
Who, then, will dance upon the grave?

Such arrogance from velvet curtains falls
Like dust and cobwebs to coat the walls,

And touching home the blade to breast
Finally find eternal rest.

Theoretic

Separate disguises
One mask to coat them all,
Flimsy fallacy to fool the masses.
I was never meant to be,
Never meant to be myself.
Touching, isn't it,
The rise from two dimensions to three?
Something went wrong,
Guesses made,
Something let me become,
And here I am today.
How scandalous! To think
That I, a dark cover, could be
Anything other than a fallacy.


Man, writing a novel takes it out of you >.<

Happy Samhain

Ticker tape bandit
Sublime criminal, breath held
What water falls behind your eyes
True justice laid at my bedside
Pincushion poltergeists with rapid motion
Colourful swirls of ebony and white
The window lets them in from outside
Crossless facets of a blinding tune
Up comes down
This jar holds the moon
Behold the glory of a broken sound
Ticker tape bandit
Up comes down

Crisp

Because it's like
Eternal wandering.

"Autumn favouritism,"
She said.

It's stuck in my throat
But she just smiles
And walks away.

These trees are a tomb
For a wretched heart.
She's walking my grave.

"Ephemeral,"
She said.
She smiles as she turns.

"Walk with me,"
I whisper.

She pretends not to hear.

That's okay.
These trees are my tomb
And she'll be back,
She always is.
Autumn favouritism;
Bleeding brown.

It's never been so clear.

_________
Anonymous: Even though I don't know who you are, thanks.

Depth

Don't take me for granted:
I have a fetish for falling.
Below the surface
I'm not what you see,
I have a darkness inside me.
Take advantage,
It's all I need.
Redemption is a painful purity to seek.
Inside the mind
It's like floating on ashes,
Taken to places where I am free.
It's like drifting on cotton,
My legs give out under me.
I have a fetish for falling,
Darkness lulling me into blank dreams.

You Only Disappear

I'm going to share something very precious with you.



There was a turning point for me, when I was with Aodhan. There was one night, one dark night, where I discovered that I had to leave. I sat at my desk and sang along with this song for hours, crying. I can still taste the metal of the gun barrel that I had in my mouth at one point.

I sound like just another stupid kid, right? I know. But I have never known anything other than abuse, and that's hard to take.

Something harder, I regret leaving. Especially because he was...he was ill, and that's why he mistreated me. It doesn't excuse everything, but it explains it all. For the whole three people who actually read this, if you haven't visited this link yet, here it is. I wasn't strong enough to wait for him to figure it out, and learn how to deal with it. I am bi-polar. I know how to fight, and how to counter, and how to hide. I have a firm hand on my emotions, a metal collar, and they only run rampant in my head and in my words. I wasn't strong enough to wait for him to get better.

That night showed me how little time I had left if I didn't leave. I couldn't control myself anymore. I couldn't keep that part of me quiet. I am not a weak person, I have never been, out of necessity. I was shattering, shattered, at that point. I'm hardly better now.

I've always lived with no regrets, but now I have one. I don't know how to take it. It feels natural, to regret, but at the same time, it feels like I should have been better all along. I should have known better than to love, I should have known better than to leave, I should have known better than to not pull the trigger.

I'm sorry for the depressing topics of my posts as of late. I'm using my blog as a confessional again, something I haven't done outright for years. I can't tell if it's because I'm trying to heal or I'm falling to pieces.

Every time I open myself to someone, even a little, I get burned. I have too many problems right now, too much pressure. Maybe that's why I keep confessing every time I open my mouth. Or rather, touch a keyboard. I don't want to be by myself forever, and right now it's the direction I'm headed in.



Armand: If I am merely symmetry for Emily's girlfriend, let me go now, before I hang on any longer. My patience, while infinite in the right circumstances, is wearing thin in this. I won't wait forever for you to figure out that, even though I am not a needy person, I do expect you to acknowledge my existence at least once a month.

How To

It's come to my attention that next to no one knows how to act in a fast food restaurant. Good thing I'm here to clear this mess up! I've worked in various fast food places and have just the experience needed to help you, your friends, your parents, and your children learn how, and how NOT, to act when frequenting a fast food joint.

1. DON'T BE AN IDIOT - This should go without saying, but sadly, it must be said. There's really no specifics involved here, just don't be a blathering dolt and you should be okay. Don't assume that you know more than the person who works there (exceptions apply), especially if they're explaining how something works. Don't be pushy, bossy, arrogant, or disrespectful. Remember, we're the ones handling your food in areas that you can't see.

2. DO KEEP TRACK OF YOUR CHILDREN - We sure as hell don't want them wandering behind the counter, wandering out the door into the parking lot, wandering into the bathrooms, or wandering into other people's food. It's not only annoying for us, it's also annoying for the other customers. We're not going to watch your kids. It's not our job. If they break something, guess who gets to buy it?! You do! Hooray! So keep track of the little buggers.

3. DO SHUT YOUR DAMN BABY UP - There is nothing worse than the resounding howl of an infant/toddler/small child, especially in a building that contains no carpet whatsoever. If they start crying, do something about it! We don't want to fucking hear it! Take them outside! Take them to the car! Who cares, get them out of the place! You know, it's fine, within reason, if your kid is having a fit, and you're attending to them. That's cool, we can wait. But for the love of all that is holy, if you're one of those parents who goes by the training method of 'ignore it and it'll stop,' DON'T BOTHER COMING IN. You're just annoying everyone around you, and you will eventually be asked to leave.

I cannot even begin to tell you how annoying it is having to listen to an idle parent's brat. I don't have kids because I DON'T WANT TO LISTEN TO THEM SHRIEKING LIKE A CRAZED HOWLER MONKEY when they don't get sprinkles. I shouldn't have to put up with 45 minutes worth of tantrum because you're too sorry of a parent to do anything about it. Or you don't have the balls. Or you've decided that your child is an angel and their demonic howling is quite angelic, in the right light. This is based on a true story. If I ever see this lady again I may go on a wild killing spree.

4. DON'T GO THROUGH DRIVE-THRU ON YOUR CELL - Why the fuck do you think you're so important that we should have to wait for you? If you're on your phone, pull off into the lot, finish your conversation, and then order. Or put the phone down while you order! But don't make us wait for you to finish finding out what happened on the latest episode of your favourite reality show.

It's also super rude to be on the phone when you get up to the window. I mean, you don't go up to the register on your phone, now do you. No, you sure as fuck don't. So why would you go up to the drive register on one? If we repeat your order back, and you're not listening, and then it's wrong, that's your own fucking fault.

5. DON'T BYPASS THE SPEAKER - Unless you are legally deaf, have trouble reading, or can't speak loudly enough for us to hear you, stop at the damn speaker! You are not king or queen of anything, you have to stop just like everyone else does! This goes back to not harassing the people who are handling your food. If you decide that you can do whatever you want, and pass the speaker, then that messes up all of our orders. Or if you don't trip the sensor at the speaker, you're going to be sitting at the window for a long damn time. We can't hear you honking. Don't bother.

6. DO ASK - For anything. Really. If you want your x kept in y, then ask! (For instance, ice cream kept in the freezer) If you want condiments or napkins or your receipt, ask! Don't expect us to be psychic. We have a certain amount of things we put in bags, and if you want more, then you're going to have to tell us. If you don't want your sundae to melt, we'd be more than happy to keep it in the freezer until the rest of your order is ready. If you don't ask, and then want it remade, you're making us waste product because you're too much of an imbecile to understand that ICE CREAM FUCKING MELTS. Also based on a true story.

7. DON'T BE AN IDIOT - I figured I should end here. Retouch on this point. We handle your food. We handle your food. Remember this. Meditate on it. Think about it next time you go into a fast food restaurant.

That is all.

Nomnomnom

Turns out that when I try to free write 1000 words, it turns into 4700. Who knew? In other news, I'm not entirely certain what to do with it now...or how it should end exactly. I kind of suck at endings when they're not super tragic. And I really wanted this one to not be super tragic. But the ending I have now bothers me. I wanted a concrete ending.

You know the ending to "The Tiger and the Princess"? Yeah, that's kind of what it is right now. I didn't even name my characters.

I confuse myself.

Also, I'm super exhausted. I've been writing for like...three or four hours (with distractions). Kinda buzzed. Should really sleep. Don't like sleeping, really.

I bet that the guy opened the tiger door.

Divergence

I stand at a crossroads every day. Every night. I stand in the middle of two choices, two options always, and I close my eyes and take one.

Flip a coin. Roll the dice.

Fractals. My endless oblivion of choosing life.

I have taken the high road. The low road. The road that leads to nowhere and the road that leads to change. I have put off making decisions and decided in haste. I have thought carefully and left it to fate.

Fractals.

There's always a choice.

Sometimes I stay up until dawn and look at the sun rising and think about sleeping. It's a choice. The dead never sleep.

The dead sleep forever.

The dead never sleep. I have forgotten why I should. It's dangerous to worship death when one is alive. It's dangerous to contemplate not choosing life. It doesn't seem like such a big deal.

Really, is it? Fade away.

Angels are puppets are pawns are demons hiding.

Fractals. I have to make a decision. Endlessly choosing life has gotten me nowhere. Has gotten me to another corner. Life always seems to end in corners. Am I just not navigating the maze right? Should I have known which paths to take?

The cheese is here somewhere.

Fractals. I have to make a decision. There's an oblivion waiting for me. I could walk out the door right now and disappear. I could walk out the door and keep walking and go...somewhere. I could go somewhere else and lose myself in the writhing masses. They're fractals.

I have to expect this.

I keep choosing life.

One day, I won't make that decision. It will be made for me. It will be my hand not my hand my hand that takes the low road. The high road. The road that I keep denying.

Tell you what. When I vanish, be it in a city where I change my name, or gently into that good night, I won't let you know. I'll just vanish. I want you to remember me as something worth remembering.

Flip a coin. Roll the dice.

I stand at a crossroads every day. Every night. I stand in the middle of two choices, two options always, and I close my eyes and take one.

Fractals.

Counterfeit

I'm going to tell you a story
It might be a lie.
I'm going to spread it across the sky.
You won't know if I just change it here
You won't know if I just disappear.
I have a song to sing
But it doesn't have a melody.
I have a plan to run
But I know how it ends for me.
Something's got a hold on me,
I'm not the person you thought I'd be
You've got to listen:
I'm going to tell you a story
It might be the truth.
It's not like anyone ever knew.
I have a secret, you just never heard
I'm the one who acts absurd.
Take a look behind the door,
That little girl doesn't exist anymore.
I have a song to sing,
But the melody was burned.
I have a story to tell,
But with all the stories I've ever told
It's getting old.
I will lead you through a door
And then I won't be here anymore.
I'm going to let you in on a secret
Just promise me you'll keep it.
I'm going to tell you a story,
It might be a lie.
I'm going to wander off into the night.
Take the time
We have all the time
We have nothing but time
We have nothing
But lies

Value

She's not a diamond,
In this the truth is known at last.
She's not even blown glass.
Nothing useful,
Nothing good,
She's not even worth the air and blood.
She stays up all night to howl at the moon,
Sleeps too late,
Wakes up well after noon.
Walks graveyards to keep the living at bay,
And while she hears the whispers,
She ignores what they say.

She makes feeble attempts to get better
But still ends up numb.
She's just cubic zirconium.

Honesty Does Not Become Me

I am no good at court intrigue. I don't have the stomach for it.

I try desperately to refuse to play.

Unfortunately, that's what life is, isn't it? One big court full of back-stabbing, cutthroat barons and their whores. And if you don't play? You become the butt of every joke, jibe, and jest. You become the hated, despised, uncouth little heathen that is whispered about constantly behind closed doors and around shadowy corners.

It's almost like you have to be evil to be good.

I don't like to gossip, or spread rumors (should there be a 'u' there?), or pry into people's lives. Secrets stop at me. Oddly, I seem to know everything that goes on.

They treat me like it's a bad thing that I don't play, but when they need to talk, I'm the one they turn to.

The shit I know could shake the walls down to their very foundations.

I am no good at court intrigue. I'm too naïve, I suppose. I feel like we should all just be honest.



But I'm not being honest, either, am I? No. No, I'm not.

Verbal Vomit

It seems I am entirely incapable of actually posting anything these past few months. When I started here, I was averaging nine posts a month, sometimes pushing double digits. The last time I did that was in January, my spurt of New Year's Resolution. And before that? December of 2,00fucking5.

I had a blog before this that my mother murdered. It was called Tears of the Future. I don't think anyone reading me now was there for that. I only had it for...what...six months? But I had a far better track record. I was posting at the very least twice a week. Usually every day before school and then on Saturdays at the library.

Then, one day, my stepfather read something he 'didn't like' and my mother told me to delete it. Delete everything. I free write on my blog. I always have. It's easy, soothing, it helps. So, figure about how many posts I had, and then figure that probably half of them were free writes. I lost...so much of my work with one push of a button, because my FUCKING PARENTS decided they didn't like a poem I wrote. One poem. Out of...a lot. Did they care that I obviously was not well? Did they care that I obviously was trying to work out my anger and frustration and pain and fear in a constructive way? No. They cared about themselves. Just like they always have.

On the plus side, my stepfather is dead now. Which, on one hand, is amazing. Fuck him. On the other, it's unfortunate, because now I can never tell him what a fucking piece of shit he was. What a terrible "parent" he was. What a terrible everything. How he fucked my life up one side and down the other and expected me to say 'thank you, sir.'

I'm not a bad person. I have never been a bad person. Even now, I'm uncomfortable saying these things about a man who abused me since I was eight. I feel guilty, like I should have tried harder to make him love me. One time, when I was in fourth grade, I got in trouble over...something. Who knows. And I had to sit in a chair in time out in the middle of the room. I remember he yelled at me a lot; I was crying hard. After a while, I got up and hugged him. He shoved me back to the chair and told me that he hadn't said I could get up.

Once, when I was younger, second grade I believe, I hadn't cleaned my room. It was pretty messy. Yeah, I know, bad, terrible me, right? I had just given two little gifts to him and my mother and they both loved them. I was in my room, getting ready to clean it, but I got distracted by a book (I had an epic amount of kid's books, fer srs). He slammed the door open and started screaming at me to clean it, took the presents I had just given them and threw them at me. They didn't want them anymore.

I don't know why I'm telling everyone all this. I don't know where this is coming from. In fact, I sat down to make an actual post about something or other.

I can't seem to forgive my mother for sitting idly by while my stepfather abused me. And I can't seem to forgive him for mindfucking my mother into being so docile. It's a vicious circle. And there's no way for me to fix this. She started the circle all over with Carolyn and her mother. Everyone who touched my "family" got fucked.

I should be able to forgive them. That's what a good person would do, right? And I'm supposed to be a good person. Despite everything I've been through, I'm supposed to be a good person. Despite the fact that I've been through one hell after another, despite the fact that I actually SHATTERED under the pressure, despite the fact that I haven't had a home that I can remember, I'm supposed to be a good person. I'm supposed to forgive and let go.

Well I can't. And I don't want to. It's not fair. (But life isn't fair!) Well why the FUCK isn't it ever unfair in my favour?! I do good things, I do things that are a and b the c of d. I am always nice, fair, caring, unbiased. So, Karma, where the fuck are the nice things that are supposed to come my way because of that? What the hell did I ever do to you, bitch? This shit started before I could figure out what the fuck was actually going on in the world! Before I knew the capital of the state I lived in!

When I was very young, I used to draw people that looked like monsters. That wasn't my depiction of people. I actually thought people were monsters. I remember very clearly seeing a drawing of mine on a door and thinking, why doesn't anyone ask me why I drew monsters?

Sometimes I think that there are people in the world who are meant to take the bad breaks for other people. My life got fucked over so some other kid's wouldn't. I took the fall so that some other poor soul wouldn't suffer. Sometimes I get jealous and rage at the universe for making me one of the trash dumps.

Sometimes it's all that keeps me going.

Work in Progress

And I can taste the candy.
Bitter bars of rusted steel,
This girl stands inside
Strength a fable
Illusion
Illuse
Who am I kidding,
With every whispered story of the truth
I fall further away from you.
No deception
(No bitter demon am I)
Yet I am the deceiver
Full of dirt.
Not a real girl;
I can't even be hurt.
And what do I consist of?
Broken bits of glass and blood,
Little creatures that flit in the dark.
Who am I, Sir?
Not yours.
I don't even have a way to breathe
(Not a real girl)
So in this I do deceive.
Silence follows each burst of static
Each exclamation
Across my mouth I feel this plastic
A gag of brilliant proportions muffles screams
And dreams,
Don't you find it handy?
It tastes like candy.

Time Unjust

So in death do we part lips,
So true in truth a silken kiss.
Hush, my darling, my baby divine,
From out my mouth pours sand and time.

Blessed to be a keeper of the clocks,
Cursed, as well, to watch them stop.
One must rise and learn to fall;
Why did it ever have to be her at all?

Bloody devotion, she holds some truth
And the wind will play with shades of blue
While we idly spill thread and beads from out our holes
She hangs, stricken, on the wall.

So in life do we part lips,
So tear stained truth will know this.
Hush, my darling, my wicked sin,
The clock is at it again


Inspiration: time just by DaddiesGurl

Someone Should Have Known

My life is a study in control
Was a study
Was an experiment.
I dealt in greys and stained glass,
My fragile shattering
My fragile blasphemy
My sacred irony.
Listen when I speak to you.
What does your tongue worship
When you look at me?
I will walk your grave
Walk your pain
Soothe your soul.
And somehow I am cast out,
With a thousand gifts and curses
And your whispered threats.
Brilliant studies in control
Which I have yet to learn.
Let my life be an experiment
Or study
Or blasphemy.
I consent.

Platinum Bears

I wrote love songs,
I spread myself onto pages and lay on my face.
Worlds fell from my fingers
Showing the beauty in the darkness;
I thought I had something.
Such interesting disapproval from someone I don't even know.
Is my life summed up this way?
I can taste your desperation behind your eyes
And smell the depression you try to hide.
I will utter my blasphemies.
I wrote love songs...
And I am still misinterpreted.
How is this better or worse than hiding pain?
At least I don't keep it inside.
I will write my love songs and wither away in a corner.

Because I know my place,
I just fucking HATE IT

It's Not Worth It

I wish you cared. I wish anyone cared.

I guess I'll always be this alone

Resume

It's almost audible
A coherent melding of exasperation
And fury
The sound of
Bare bones breaking
My skin holding impossible forms
A stain
Rising to the surface
I bleed internally
Whispering screams behind closed doors
Each click of the lock
Each empty hallway echoes the sound of
Bare bones breaking
And who's to say it's not better
(Modicum of control)
Clasping hands together
Fracturing fingers
Snapping
And it's almost audible
The sound of
Bare bones breaking

This Is Screaming

One day I'm going to wake up,
I'm going to open my eyes.
Thinking that I have somewhere to go with my life,
So pathetic,
I choke on dreams that only taunt me
With sweet kisses.
I want so badly to get better and yet...
I am terrified of losing myself,
Dying and still being alive,
Giving in to that sweet darkness and resuming my watchful days.
Someone, listen, do you think I'm worth it..?
I keep trying to convince myself that I am
But every day I see so many reasons why I should just
Go away,
And it seems so reasonable, so logical, so right,
Giving back what isn't mine:
This life, hers, this shattered life...

Recently I haven't been well,
Recently I haven't been able to keep hold of myself,
Just like before, that vertigo returning
To make me dizzy
So I shatter the mirrors telling me lies.
Recently I've been confronted with who I should be,
Should have been,
And how far off that path I've gotten.
Rather than just living, just being the protector I was made to be,
I've become petty, a dreamer, a wisher,
A fool.
I fell into the way of the world and the world dictates
I must be a girl.
I have to give that back.
Means dividing, means releasing, means everything I've come to desire
I have to give up.

She wants her life back.
It's a steady pressure the last few days,
A steady rhythm choking me to sleep.
I can't stand the thought of being dead that way,
Or being offstage, forgotten.
I don't want to give up what I've taken,
What she left behind
THIS LIFE IS FUCKING MINE
And I refuse to relinquish my hold.
But there's this little voice that whispers
"Just let go"
And I wonder if I can not listen to it,
If I'm strong enough to push through.
It's so right for it to be hers again...


Would anyone care if I wasn't here...

Because messenger has lots of dicks

Lithe pretenses,
Like every dream I ever dreamt.
I'm not some weak powerless little bitch.
Tell me again
How you think you have the answers to my past,
My future, my present in your hands.
Tell me again
How you think you can unlock what I do,
Make it justified how I'm always wrong
And you know better because you're not young.
I've mastered things that you can only dream,
Or nightmare,
Things that you would melt before you touched.
I dreamt away a life that wasn't mine
And you want to tell me how wrong everything I believe
Or do or taste or feel is.
I want to tell you, both of you,
How wrong your point of view is.
You choke on your narrow ways of life
While I accept and take it all in stride,
I may not be better, but I'm definitely not worse,
And you can suck it if you want to bring it up again,
My dear, dearly departed 'friends'

Becoming Eve

I was born in darkness,
Some silent watcher to break a fall,
I was the one made to last through it all.
Incessant ringing in my ears,
Sometimes I wish I wasn't here.
Becoming what the body is,
A journey, confusing and insane,
Unnecessary,
There's no reason to fall into the trap of femininity.
Recombination forcing my hand,
Turning into the first sin,
Turning into a fallible mortal again.
Does anyone have the faintest idea
How hard it is to become
Some thing wrapped in identity.
I was a pure creature,
Leaving the genders to The Others.
Now I'm falling into a pit I don't understand,
A pit that, quite honestly, terrifies me.
What does a pure creature do
When suddenly impurity is the only option?
Either divide and prove unworthy
Or maintain and prove a sin

Forsaken?

Have I been?
Deluding myself into a semblance of self worth,
Have I finally pressed an unforgivable line?
Would I care if I had?
It's almost too much for me to keep dealing with.
I fall into relationships that are so far apart,
We must not meet until I can fly
And who knows how much time must go by,
I am so stupid stupid stupid to think that I can have what I want.
Sudden silences press against my ears
With a tearing in my core I pretend to ignore,
Blatantly hiding behind a twisted façade.
I hold my tongue and let things go on and hope,
Hope that today I will hear something
Or today
Or today
Or today
Or today
Will it be another long silence?

Can I make it through that..?

a l t a r

Bodies atremble in the night
Flashes of light through leather straps
And down with a vengeance
Scarlet blood coursing along her back
(Let go
Let go)
A point past no return, a point of brilliant
Release!
She collapses to her knees
(BREAK ME)
Redemption pouring from slices in rivulets
Raining ecstasy on a carpet of sin
And while she begs for nothing proudly
She awaits salvation to come down again
(Let go
Let go)
Dreamers and desolate souls passing through
She’s come to an altar
(I want to let you ravish me like a demon
Like heaven before the fall)
Eyes raised to the ceiling making shapes in her mind
Press forward into darkness
Slips
What more is there than this?
What more is there than this?
Begging, utterly undone:
BREAK ME

Five Aspects of an Endless Longing

I.
Dreams so sweet I can hardly stand.
My hair tangled around your hand.

Heart beating in my throat,
So painfully loud,
I nearly choke.

My eyes, frightened but fierce with desire,
Searching your face
To fan the flames higher.

A flush paints my cheeks crimson,
A terrified smile haunts my lips,
I bow to your command;
I want no more than this.

II.
In articulo mortis

III.
(La petite mort)

IV.
Tonight I'm going to stare at the stars
And smile to myself.
If my hands were to stray,
If I were to start my dreaming,
It would be your fault.

V.
Feverish with longing,
Yet too afraid to ask,
I wait for you to notice.
I bet you do,
But you wait until I'm crazy,
And I hate that,
While my infatuation grows
In leaps and bounds.

No longer an issue

Should it feel like a hot iron
Exploding in my chest?
A lump of molten rage
Where my heart used to rest?
Unbidden to my mind,
To my idle, empty hands,
Come desires hot as fire
And an ache of pure unrest.
I am alone
Blind fingers grasping at the keys,
Typing teasing taunts
Bringing unsuspecting men to their knees.
Bring me under your command!
And I will serve loyally and true,
But the more you refrain from discipline
The more I drift away from you.



I wrote this on my FetLife. Because. I can. And also I don't have anything more original to say on here, so console yourselves with the fact that I just wrote it today.

Not poetry

What I want and what I have have always been two different things, even when I didn't know it. And it hasn't been shit like "I want a Honda but I have a Chevy," (although that happened, too, I just didn't mind because at least I had a vehicle) no, it's been more profound. Makes me wonder who I pissed off in a previous life. I'm sorry already! Can I catch a break just once?!

Everyone I've ever cared about has always lived in a different state, and even now that I'm living with a friend, there's someone I'd rather be with a thousand miles away (Blue, no offense, love). There are four places I can live in the U.S., none of them any closer to where I want to be, some of them as far as I can go and still stay in the continental. I keep telling myself that life just isn't meant to be fair, this is normal, this is basic shit. And yet...

I've ripped myself apart for everyone I've known, except one, at least once. Should I have to sacrifice like that? Should I have to be broken?

For over a month I thought I'd been abandoned by the only person I haven't changed to please. I'm not sure I can describe what a blow to my confidence that was, or the thoughts that haunted me throughout that time. I'm sick, I'm so fucked up, I'm wrong, I'm worthless, I should have known better. In a funny twist of fate, I hadn't been abandoned, I'd been treated to a taste of something I used to do: a withdrawal from society into my own personal hell. I was broken of it with a dose of someone else's selfishness, but that's another story.

And so I dip my pencil in the water and move on...

I took a walk today under a grey sky with tiny speckles of rain falling on my face. It was decently chill, a pleasant surprise. I meant to write some poems, and did indeed write one, but it was nothing worth sharing; a waste of paper. I haven't managed to write anything exceedingly brilliant in quite a while, not since the night I read a friend's poem and wrote a frenzied response (a highly edited version made it on here, one not written in the heat of the moment). Perhaps I shouldn't push it, maybe beg my muse to speak with me, maybe search for a new one.

I showed a friend a drawing of mine recently. It was a practice sketch of the female form. I've been trying very hard to teach myself to draw better, and while I'm not the worst out there *coughthirdgraderscough*, I'm certainly not an artist. I enjoy drawing, but it will never be anything more than a hobby of mine, and not even one that I do very often. Anyway, I asked for some pointers on how to make it better and my friend said, "Just draw what you see."

But I see words. I see everything as a poem or a story. On my walk, I saw beautiful things that I instantly started crafting a verse for, or turned a quick phrase to capture, much like snapping a photograph. No artist am I, merely a wandering poet.

Passing Through the Woods

Inner turmoil like burning oil
(Refreshing)
Save me from my own desires,
Like a midwinter blaze
I am surrounded by ice.
Teach me something
(Inspirational nonsense)
Teach me something!
I will not beg
No dog, no cowering demon,
Oh, child with a wicked tongue!
Oh, child filled with desire!
No cowering demon am I,
No blistered body shaking,
SHE HAS GROWN HER WINGS
and flies silently away
(This is the day)
Heed!
Four years, two months, six days.
Swing low, sweet chariot,
For I have miles to go before I sleep.

Don't Keep Me in the Dark

Doorways stand open in the night,
I will hold open my hand for only so long a time.
Darkening days, my melody of life,
My melody of moving on to the next chapter.
Who's to say I deserve to be happier?
Mistakes are made and unmade in each hour,
Seconds overlapping to caress the rocks,
The sea speaking
(I shouldn't be shocked)
It's not that I didn't know, it's that I hoped,
And again today I am quietly alone.
Situationaly speaking, it's nothing new,
And I can even understand why it's me who is in this place,
Better me than anyone else.
I wonder if I was merely a distraction from the real world?
YOU asked me that once,
Now I ask you,
JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH:
If you don't want me anymore,
"My apologies for darkening your door".


Four years, two months, eight days

Today's trivia: The first band I ever made on Rock Band was called Darkened Doorway. The second was Orison.

Always On the Outside

Because there's no place for me within.
Stalking rooms with empty noises spewing,
Spouting nothing to be consumed by a void.
I'm not one with whom you should toy.
Something not right, holding on too loose,
And every other word grinds past my vision
Except I missed nothing of the nothing you said.
I a m s i c k
And it's about time I admitted it,
Except this sickness draws certain others near
And then I'm not the only one here,
So is it so wrong to be something else?
I have to stalk these rooms at night, shaded red,
Shaded black, whispering under the screaming vortex
Of the known.
I should just have stayed home
Except this sickness compels me to flee from the silence
And then there I am, letting someone in again,
Hoping that for maybe just a little while
I don't have to be so lonely.
But it doesn't work that way.
Because afterwards, after the possession and depression and
Elation,
After they've gotten what they wanted,
I'm still alone

Fuck It

I can honestly say that I hate myself.
I hate who I am
I hate what I want
I hate what I have
I hate what I need
I hate the fact that I am still degrading the earth with my presence.

And I HATE that people tell me I should be grateful.



It's not cheating if I'm the only fucking one here!

Sixpence Too Willing

Sing a song of ecstasy
A pocketful of tears,
Four and twenty blackbirds carrying my fears,
And when they finally landed
I offered them some bread,
Now I have a murder circling 'round my head.

Indeed

My life has been one long list of failures;
Why should my death be any different?

Doubt Within

With realization comes the responsibility.
I repress,
I refrain,
My face is pressed against the ground.
Am I less worthy?
I guess my arms are saying yes.
Hold me,
Hide me from myself,
Take away this poisonous doubt.
I don't know where I'm going
And I don't know if it's alone,
But I'm going there all the same.
I sort of feel abandoned.
Is that okay?
Maybe I should have said no...

This Has Absolutely No Meaning

Got a pocketful of nothing
(Ashes, ashes)
Who are we to say it's over?
I have a fistful of dollars,
What will you trade me for them?
I hold your heart by a string
Treat it like a yo-yo.
Will you listen when I speak?
Things moving at the corner of my vision
And I just hope I can remain silent about them.
You know what I'm talking about,
You know what everyone is talking about.
Exercises in playful meanderings
Exercises in futile wanderings.
Please excuse the mess of my dreams,
Just passing through your bleak reality,
Tasting on my tongue this sanguine addiction
(Reach for it)
I can feel your heart beneath my hands
Strings vibrating.
You are my symphony


I was messing around with Dr. Wicked's Writing Lab and this spewed out. I can tell you that it took me five minutes. Yay widget?

An Apology of Sorts

I don't have a whole lot to say,
Fell awake the other day,
Lost track of time and drifted away.

Last night I fell asleep,
Missed messages I'd been waiting on for weeks,
How do I justify that to myself?
How do I justify missing everything?

I wake up and feel dead
Insane buzzing flitting through my head

Dreaming draws me nearer to the fears
Hunting me with blood soaked spears,
I have nothing to shield me from the dreams

Skeletons grasping my arms,
Keeping me from running,
Sapping my strength so I can't break them,
I have to protect my friend, I have to save him,
I let my guard down and there it is,
Skeleton holding me tight
Forcing me to fight,
I should have hunted him and won.

My alarm went off at 8:45
And I was sorry to still be alive,
I tripped and fell from dream to nightmare.

In conclusion, I'm sorry I missed you

Silence In Spite of Me

I should just give it up
Stop hoping
Wishing
Wanting
Stop hanging on to threads that unravel
In my grasping hands.
I should realize that I can never have
The bright breaking of loneliness.
I can never have that strong guiding hand
Pressed against my throat.
I should just give it up
And call myself useless

Damage

Is that why I'm so alone?
I lit candles and drowned myself in darkness
In the silence of falling water.
Wondering never brings me nearer.
Am I too far gone?
I press my hands to the window and the sky
Weeps with me.
I am merely a product of my past
And a whisper of my future.
The past is doomed to repeat
(I can take the damage
I can keep walking)


Four years, two months, twenty-five days

|<3|

You make me feel like my heart
Is in a spreader bar

I'm not kidding

Steph: What are those long things called, with the pillow at one end and they're sometimes covered in silk?

Me: ...a chaise lounge?

Steph: Yes! You are a goddess!

Me: *strikes pose*

And It Really Was Time

So settle down and watch her go

Like bitter tea leaves down the drain
Like bitter whispers on the brain
And silent mutterings from behind closed closet doors.

Silence!
Fall in line

Wristwatches burning spirals on skeletal arms
Grim reaper smiles full of guile and charm
She's falling down the tunnel with wings pasted on her back.

Simpering little mice
This is what delirium tastes like

Cake and ice cream and ginger ale
Paper plates that are far too frail
I held her hand until she told me it was time to go.

Sooner Rather Than...

"They say I’ve lost it
What could I know when I’m but a mockery?
I'm so alone"
~Switchfoot, 'Sooner or Later'

Words Into A Void

I have to wonder if you're mad
If I did something to make you hate me.
I wonder if I could fix it if I did
I wonder if you would want me to.

I sent some pictures in hopes that you'd be pleased
And you were, and you told me,
But you're still gone and I know you're busy,
Just wish you'd say hi every now and then.

I'm lonely and silent
Wrapping myself in a cocoon of not caring,
Having to withdraw from the world
Just so for a little I can stop crying.

I miss you and hope that you're okay
And I'm trying not to harass you with texts
Or emails or calls,
I just wanted you to know

Even though you'll never read this

You Say I'm Hopeless

I want to burn my body to the ground
Rise up from the ashes and fly away,
Spread open my veins and just bleed
Oceans of blood, raining blue rocks
Hateful suffering,
Desires old as dust as faith as hate,
And then there was nothing inside,
Nothing inside,
Nothing inside.
Help me bend backwards and land on my feet.
Just one last song to lay me to sleep
(And I shall sleep dreamless)
With nothing left but bitter lies,
I am going to slice until there's nothing left but
Scars on my wrists...


I dreamt I ran a bath
And filled it with cherry blossoms
(There was whispering in my head)
I dreamt I ran a bath
And stepped in to the bubbles
(I don't know what they're saying)
I dreamt I ran a bath
That I turned red
(They lulled me to sleep)