Tagged...*sniff*

These are the rules:

1. Link the person(s) who tagged you…

2. Mention the rules on your blog

3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours...

4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them…

5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged...


Tagged by: Raghav

*I bite the inside of my lips all. The. Time. It makes me look so stupid, but I can't help it

*I always argue about everything, no matter what it is.

*Apparently, I can't write without being angry, sad, depressed, or afraid. Which would explain the lack of stuff on here recently.

*Honestly, I act like nothing is good enough for me. I always have to say it was better some other time, act like it was better. I can't help it, and I don't know why. Seriously, I'm happy now, with just about everything, and I still act like an ungrateful wretch.

*I'm quiet. A lot. It gets on people's nerves, or so I've been told.

*I daydream so much that I miss time lol. I can just sit somewhere and stare at the wall and be completely entertained for like, five hours.


Taggees:

Anonymous
Simon
Ruela
Katie McKenna
ab

Six is the number of Shaytan! lol, jk, i'm just too lazy to find another person i think'll do it

N I G H T M A R E S

Never seeing the monsters
In the dark
Graceful falls from
Heights
That make your head spin
Miraculous recovery
And we do it again
Repeating for
Eternity then
Stop

Hardly Fluid

Requiem
My broken china dolls
Failed songs slumbering beside me
Butterfly wings
Familiar faces pass by running
Requiem

'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman

Fits of virulent apptitude like painted shadows grace the walls. My very own portraits of pretenses, possibilities, panderings, so much wasted time spent quivering and weeping and wailing to let myself escape these sacred rooms. Butterflies float on a passing zephyr, yet the shadows stay the same: unchangeable as Father Time himself. And if it was all leaked away into the great beyond? The great beyond, the original oxymoron. It would just be another statistic, like me, like you, like the man on the street, choking on his cigarettes and committing a slow suicide. Numbers leak the romance out of the world. Poets have been slaughtered by maruading bands of digits, shouting facts and equations into the sky, executing criminals with a swift product and summation. Or would that be quotient and difference?

My hands are broken artifacts, just so much unused clay rotting in the corner. I barely care. Barely. Butterflies, romance, empty stories to convince myself to not let go just yet, maybe tomorrow will have something good. Something excellent, something positively to die for. I know what death is. My soul shies away from the truth, but I still want it. Should I bring it closer with one stroke? One stroke or two, like that cartoon. Me, I howl into the empty rooms I haunt, already aware that there will be only my echo to answer my anguish.

I am running out of time. Time is so precious, Father, so beautiful, like liquid, and the older I get, the more it falls from my grasp, trailing through my fingers as months flow by the same way seconds used to when I was a child. What a childish fancy, making time seem to be something other than what it is. And what is it, Father? My footsteps in the sand, a trail leading behind me into the fog, the flesh eating fog, and I can't help myself. I try to stop walking, I try to ease the burdens I have strung to my back. Father, why did you leave me with hands so small that time could only run faster and faster away into the ocean instead of pooling at my feet? But no one listens, and the walls close in again.

No one ever listens.

I can feel the crystal goblets shattering on the floor. My feet bleed as I walk over them. I must destroy these sacred rooms. I must, for the pounding in my head is at it's worst and the walls are still golden...

Father, have you repented?

Bullshit.

Fancy words and stories won't fucking save you, little girl. Fancy words and stories will send you to hell. Hell and heaven and earth and fire. Wind and air and mercy and desire. Is desire just as cold as ice? Lust isn't hot, it's freezing, and the golden walls are silver with frost. This must be lust.

Blatant denial, Father. I am your little angel, a little angel with broken wings who lifts her hands to ward off

FUCKING EVERYTHING

I wish you'd just hit me instead. Good fathers know how to make their little girls dead. I'm trapped by your lies and my fear and it's sweet, knowing you don't even care. I'll never tell you and you don't know.

Guess that's the way it snows in hell. I know that these sacred rooms keep me safe from you.

Goodnight, Father

I'm the Monster Tonight

(\ /)

I keep a razor blade in my wallet

Just in case

The Restaurant at the End of the World

We come to be for a little while
Leave a small dent in time
Some scratch the table
Some clean it to a shine
We are only known
For what we leave behind

A half eaten roll

Melon

Wine

And when we're gone
We'll be remembered for a little while
Until the waitress comes


And cleans our memory away

Kiss

Weeping in the night

It's the sound of hearts being

Drawn

On paper

Bloody little clumps of

Waste

They'll know you by the look on your

Soul

Broken little

Child

We're just one more heart on the paper

Like everyone else

Hoping the sun remembers how to

Rise

Tomorrow

Tonight We Dance

Babble Babble...

I draw your portrait
“Babble babble bitch bitch rebel rebel party party”
I’m just your fucking average outcast
Fucking average shadow
The corners come alive around me
Do you hear me yet?
“Babble babble bitch bitch rebel rebel party party”
This sucks!
Why should I take the fall
You’re the loser who stuck me here
“I hear a sound of a heart from the shadow in the dark”
No more mercy
No more sleepless nights contemplating your fall
We’ll die together in one last blaze of glory
“I see the darkness surround the shape on the ground”
I can’t express what you mean to me
Imagine every country blazing in arson
That’s what I have for you
That sick feeling you get when you know the punch is coming
The body in the backyard is your missing brother
The whisper you hear at night is real
I’m that fucking whisper
Somewhere in the corner of your mind you know it’s coming
From way out against the sun
Shooting sparks like fireworks in the night
Loud and shocking
The boom resonating in your chest
I resonate with a power all my own
You don’t see it coming
No one sees it coming
One last warning for anyone who will listen
I EXPLODE AGAINST THE NIGHT
This creature of darkness knows the light too well
I explode
I DESTROY
I am the fucking nightmare you can’t remember
Those eyes outside the window
You’ve seen me in every knife’s reflection
The sharp sheen that tempts you to let go
I tempt your weak mind
Professions of religion don’t lessen the impact
Those who truly believe have already seen the end
Who fears death that believes in truth they will never die?
Just wait for the end

HERE IT COMES

T R A S H

I walk outside
And breathe the scent of the night.
When the demons call me,
Why should I fight?
I'm just a shadow,
Do I really know what's right?
Just a shadow
In the wind of the night

It's hard to move on;
The past has taken it's toll.
Should I always remember
'Til my memory's full?
Or just let it all fade
'Til it's just a dark hole?
The future loses promise
To the past's toll

It's the middle of the night;
I grip my pencil.
My thoughts are like so much trash
Still I trace their stencil.
It's a heavy burden to bear
That I've yet to reconcile.
It's too fucking late,
But I grip my pencil

Back in the Beginning

I'd forgotten how beautiful I am in the darkness. How could I forget? How could I let slip something so freeing? I walked outside tonight into the darkness and wind. It caressed me. Touched what hurt. I miss belonging to that. The wind in the darkness.

All you can see of me is my silhouette, an hourglass figure in a long skirt with long hair blowing wildly every which way. I'm just a dream.

Is that what I'm supposed to take away from this life? That you can dream beautifully but no matter how wonderful it is, you have to wake up sometime? I don't want to be so jaded. The world has other ideas. I dream and wake and find that dreams are a cold comfort in the end. Is that all life is? Periods of dreaming and wakefulness? Does anyone else ever see what I do?

When I finally fall back asleep into my current fantasy, will it be as wonderful? Or will the pain of realization have stolen all the golden beauty away from me?

I can't believe I forgot how beautiful I am in the darkness. I am graceful and intelligent. Unlike the pale child the light reveals me to be, cowering in a corner, hoping my scars aren't as evident as they feel. The light blinds me and I forget things. I forget how to speak and walk and live. Until the darkness cradles me again. Then I walk with confidence and speak with assurance. I am the embodiment of grace and beauty in darkness.

How could I have forgotten something so wonderful?

Popcorn Fetish

What should I say to make you believe
I'm the lie I told you
I describe myself and you eat every sentence
Like it's pure golden truth
Every time you come near I uncap the jar with my lies
My sweet alibies
My salty excuses
My sour refuses

I don't want to talk about me

Let's talk about you

Are you who you're trying to be?
Are you the pretty reflection in the mirror
Or the meat beneath the orange rind?

I WANT YOU TO PULL OUT YOUR SECRETS!

Stop standing with your hands behind your back
Let me see what you're holding
I want the pith you hide under your pillow at night
The little notes in the margins of your books
I know you have them
I have them
Stop pretending you're the angel on the top of the tree
I'm not below you, I'm not part of the whole
I'm at the window looking in
I see your smirking eyes like two bullets on the bedspread

I'LL GET YOUR SECRETS!

I take a moment to huddle against the wall
What I wouldn't give for a glass of ginger ale
The kind you can't breath around or you'll choke
I want to bury my face in it and remind myself of you
Just you
When I look up I know you'll be yelling for whatever else you can take
And I'll get it for you
Just to make you shut up a moment longer
I don't care if I do it wrong
That's your fault for not taking the time to show me
Next time, when you grow up, you'll do better
Or you'll be gone

I take my hands out from behind my back and study my secrets
Nothing you'll ever see
I keep my velvet box behind my heart
Every dirty little deed I ever did glistens like emeralds
I hold them close
Let the pain of error wash over me
Then let the delicious ones feast on what's left of my morals
Handcuffs squeeze my wrists until my hands turn blue
But I like it
You'll never know that
And I don't want you to

My mind wanders

Anything to get away from you for a while

We have tatoos in common
You have some, I want some
But you know what you want with the pin pricks
I can't decide
So I pull out the list of things I like
Handcuff myself to the sink and wash every dish you bring me
You say something but I don't bother rewinding to see what it was
I want wings
I've always wanted wings
Another thing I know you'll never learn
I'm disjointed
Stilted

I want your secrets laid out on the counter
I want to sort them
Lay them out and wash them and take another look
Maybe hold them up to the window and let the light shine through

I WANT YOUR SECRETS!

I bow from the weight of my secrets
My box barely shuts, even with all my heart on top of it
Does that say more about my secrets
Or how little heart I have left?
I'm not even ashamed of some

I finish the dishes but keep the handcuffs
It gives me something to look forward to later
The promise of pain shivers down my back and through my breasts
A secret I would gladly proclaim if I could
I have no shame about it
Suddenly sensitive to my too-tight bra, I readjust
I promise myself as much pain as I can take
Maybe more if I'm good
I'll be good

I huddle in the blind spot between cameras
A secret springs out of the box and I fail to catch it
I like to feel used
Dirty
Like a twenty dollar whore
But keep your money
My bra is too tight again and it rubs against my nipples
My secrets want out, but I finally get my hands behind my back again
Paste on my best normal face
The only thing left from the secret is a lingering tingle

I know it'll fade

Violent Passing

Out of my mouth spews the child of doubt
A bloody mass of myself
I perish
Tomorrow is my doorstep
I am the mat
Just becuase we rage doesn't mean you can kill us
Let us rage
The child stirs and looks at me through hollow eyes
Empty gaping maws
'I am your nightmares'
Out of my mouth spews my treason
My own golden treason
Bloody gashes on my arms
They aren't who I am anymore
Except when I dream
I DON'T DREAM
I dream of nothing
Out of my own mouth is death's caricature
I spew the poison on the ground
Guess tomorrow is just the same

No More Blood

I won't let you guide my hands
I won't let you guide the blade down again

I don't want to live like that
Just because you want me to
Doesn't mean I want it too

Just let me be
Even when I scream your name
Just go away
You can't save me

I don't want you to save me

I don't want to be saved
Not your way

I won't think about you anymore
Even when your name echoes in my head
I'd rather die

Don't try to save me

Let our memories fade away
Tomorrow is mine

You can stay in yesterday

Thinking of You

Against my better judgement

I find my thoughts on you

And when I guide them back to the present

My heart aches

A rap at the door

"Come in, do come in, it's so terribly cold today."

"Thankee, thankee kind miss, are your parents at home?"

"Why, no sir, they are out at market."

"What are they doing at the market, young miss?"

"Buying bread to lay on the table, sir."

"And who shall eat this bread?"

"Why, my parents and I, sir, for my brother is dead."

"Dead and gone, dead and gone, a pity."

"Pity, sir?"

"A pity you have no one here with you."

"Oh, I'm not alone sir, for I have a cat to keep me company."

"A cat is no companion for a little girl."

"But she is the witch's cat, sir."

"The witch's cat! Dear me, what does she say to you?"

"That you'd be coming today, sir."

"Really?"

"Yes, sir. That's why I have tea ready, sir. Just for you."

"How kind. But I must not stay long. Are you ready to be off?"

"Of course not, sir, my parents are expecting me to be here tonight."

"But they expect nothing, young miss."

"Then, sir, where are we to go?"

"To the mountains of darkness, and by all means, bring the cat."

"But she is not ready to go, sir."

"Then we shall travel alone on the road to Hell."

Burn My Heart to Ash

Just a million miles more to the moon
To the-
Ocean swells at my feet.
And hope is my pillow
While I sail into the sunrise
Into the-
Window that I stare out.
It's raining again...
Hope is my umbrella,
Spread itself over my head
But I look up
And it's a million miles more to the moon
To the-
Salty breeze that steals away my dreams
Under the cover of darkness.
Just remember to hope
With all that you have in your chest
There is so much-
So little time
To dream

My Cup is Empty

Lie against the night, against the trash I sleep in
Just one more drink and I'm gone
You don't give me a second thought
(Styrofoam dreams guide me to rest)
But when they lay me in the ground
I will not rot or crumble
And you'll hate me years from now
When, in all my glory, you'll dig me up and heave me to space
And I will not rot or crumble
A reminder of all your sins
And fights
And humanity
I am your nightmares
And I do not rot or crumble
(Styrofoam dreams to guide you home)

*\/*

Sometimes I wonder if I'm alone when I look at blood




And see roses in bloom