Her home became the dirty cell. Days must have passed, but she didn't know when one ended and one began. She used to stay awake all the time, but now she just tried to sleep and never wake to the dirty white walls and concrete floor, the one bare bulb stuck in the ceiling. She stared at the door when she was awake, praying to hear someone coming. It didn't matter who anymore, just someone. Anyone.
Somehow, they always knew when she was asleep. She woke to food beside the door and a clean chamber pot, every few times there was a bucket of water and soap, new clothes. She had tried to fake sleep, but they never came when she did, and she couldn't last long, no more than eight hours anymore. It was wearing on her.
She woke once again to the food and something in her just snapped. She grabbed the bowl and threw it at the wall, screaming wordless rage as the tasteless gruel splattered. Then the tears came.
"I'll kill myself! Give me a reason not to!"
Her sobs echoed off the walls alongside the sound of the metal bowl being beaten against the floor. A minute later it was shaped into a rough point, sharp.
"One reason!"
But her scream when unanswered.
Was this all for her, she wondered. What if she waited one more day? What if tomorrow was the end of this hell? What if...?
What if she died now, she thought also. What if it's just going to keep going on and on without end? Could she take this anymore?
She bent over the bowl, crying hopelessly. What should she do? Her mind felt numb.
What should she do?
Friday, August 22, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
B R E A K R I P S H R E D R E N D
one day i'll be good enough for you
and you'll want me like i want you
i won't have to keep telling myself it's worth it
it'll be worth it
someday
i guess right now i'm just not good enough
or pretty enough
or thin enough
or popular enough
or sweet enough
to make you look at me the way i look at you
it's not like you have to anyway
i'm never leaving
you have me forever
i just wish you'd do something about it
because every time there's the promise and then...
you let it go
my heart breaks a little more in my chest
you put it back together the first time
i suppose it's only right that you rip it apart now
(you may kill only what you create
and you created me from the shattered glass, blood, and ashes
i held out to you)
i just wish i was good enough for you to want to do what i want to do
instead of being the second or third thing you think about
i will make myself good enough
i will
just wait for me a little longer
i know i can be what you want me to be
as long as you don't mind losing my soul
and you'll want me like i want you
i won't have to keep telling myself it's worth it
it'll be worth it
someday
i guess right now i'm just not good enough
or pretty enough
or thin enough
or popular enough
or sweet enough
to make you look at me the way i look at you
it's not like you have to anyway
i'm never leaving
you have me forever
i just wish you'd do something about it
because every time there's the promise and then...
you let it go
my heart breaks a little more in my chest
you put it back together the first time
i suppose it's only right that you rip it apart now
(you may kill only what you create
and you created me from the shattered glass, blood, and ashes
i held out to you)
i just wish i was good enough for you to want to do what i want to do
instead of being the second or third thing you think about
i will make myself good enough
i will
just wait for me a little longer
i know i can be what you want me to be
as long as you don't mind losing my soul
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Death is Everything's Final Limit
In articulo mortis...
Hang your head
Filthy grave robber with a shovel at your back
Lantern light fills your eyes
As you walk into the black
Sing yourself to sleep, my ghoul
Words filling your head like cobwebs in the night
You think you can escape fate
But must merely deal with the demons you invite
Whenever you lay down to rest, remember
Mors ultima linea rerum est
At the moment of death...
Dirt clings to your hands
Your secret hides itself away under your nails
Gold dripping from your pockets
As you vault over the rail
You raise your face to the wind
A skull clutched tightly to your chest
"With strange aeons, even death may die"
Mors ultima linea rerum est
You cannot dig enough graves
Before you fall into yesterday
Nor can you rob enough graves
To keep the devil at bay
In death, all become equal
The sinners lie with the saints
Gold, silver, and gems can never turn away the scythe
So, my ghoul, what is your complaint?
If even death shall die
There's no hope for you to eternal lie
So, my ghoul, when you do rest
Mors ultima linea rerum est
In articulo mortis
My grave robbing ghoul
Never protest
You'll only be the fool
At the moment of death
Remember
You are just as easily snuffed
As the last ember
So, pray, when you lay to rest, for
Mors ultima linea rerum est
Hang your head
Filthy grave robber with a shovel at your back
Lantern light fills your eyes
As you walk into the black
Sing yourself to sleep, my ghoul
Words filling your head like cobwebs in the night
You think you can escape fate
But must merely deal with the demons you invite
Whenever you lay down to rest, remember
Mors ultima linea rerum est
At the moment of death...
Dirt clings to your hands
Your secret hides itself away under your nails
Gold dripping from your pockets
As you vault over the rail
You raise your face to the wind
A skull clutched tightly to your chest
"With strange aeons, even death may die"
Mors ultima linea rerum est
You cannot dig enough graves
Before you fall into yesterday
Nor can you rob enough graves
To keep the devil at bay
In death, all become equal
The sinners lie with the saints
Gold, silver, and gems can never turn away the scythe
So, my ghoul, what is your complaint?
If even death shall die
There's no hope for you to eternal lie
So, my ghoul, when you do rest
Mors ultima linea rerum est
In articulo mortis
My grave robbing ghoul
Never protest
You'll only be the fool
At the moment of death
Remember
You are just as easily snuffed
As the last ember
So, pray, when you lay to rest, for
Mors ultima linea rerum est
Tagged again! Curses
Tagged by Ruela v.v
The so called 'Road Trip meme'
Five cd's to take on the trip:
The Triptych - Demon Hunter
Songs to Burn Your Bridges By - Project 86
Summer of Darkness - Demon Hunter
Tales of the Knife - Lucerin Blue
Phenomenon - Thousand Foot Krutch
Three essential items:
Assuming the transportation, clothing, and hygiene products are already obviously coming, then I'd say
-My writing bag
-A good book
-My Gir blanket, for overnight stuff. It's so soft and fuzzy ^_^ I know, I know, so childish. Bite me.
One outrageous clothing item: I don't think I own anything outrageous lol. Well...I do have a very skimpy pirate costume and some fishnet stockings. I suppose that would, in fact, count as outrageous.
Taggees:
Raghav
Simon
Littl Rebal
The so called 'Road Trip meme'
Five cd's to take on the trip:
The Triptych - Demon Hunter
Songs to Burn Your Bridges By - Project 86
Summer of Darkness - Demon Hunter
Tales of the Knife - Lucerin Blue
Phenomenon - Thousand Foot Krutch
Three essential items:
Assuming the transportation, clothing, and hygiene products are already obviously coming, then I'd say
-My writing bag
-A good book
-My Gir blanket, for overnight stuff. It's so soft and fuzzy ^_^ I know, I know, so childish. Bite me.
One outrageous clothing item: I don't think I own anything outrageous lol. Well...I do have a very skimpy pirate costume and some fishnet stockings. I suppose that would, in fact, count as outrageous.
Taggees:
Raghav
Simon
Littl Rebal
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Blinded by the Dawn
I.
I will give you a chocolate door
Marshmallow handle
Sprinkle mat
All for you, my cupcake
Frosting bed and peanut pillow
So you can dream sweet dreams
Of candy cane death
II.
I fell asleep on the couch
And dreamed of a jester
Living on a ship stuck beneath a waterfall
He lived near the town on the dusty hill
And every day he walked from the ship up the dusty road
Through the forest
Until he reached the plain and the people
And he sang and danced and told jokes and made them smile
And every night he walked from the plain down the dusty road
Back through the forest and to the ship
And when he shut the door on the cabin and stared out the window
Through the flood of water
His smile would fall off
And his eyes would be sad
III.
I am the moonlight
The dappled beams
Flashing on the backs of wolves
Running
Because it is pure joy
Pure harmony
To run together
In the moonlight
IV.
He looked through the spy glass and saw her
Making love with a man not her husband
But from in the distance
She looked through the spy glass
And saw his anguish as his wife defiled herself
Watching the watcher weep
She smiled and turned away
The watcher's watcher, the watcher, and the wife
I will give you a chocolate door
Marshmallow handle
Sprinkle mat
All for you, my cupcake
Frosting bed and peanut pillow
So you can dream sweet dreams
Of candy cane death
II.
I fell asleep on the couch
And dreamed of a jester
Living on a ship stuck beneath a waterfall
He lived near the town on the dusty hill
And every day he walked from the ship up the dusty road
Through the forest
Until he reached the plain and the people
And he sang and danced and told jokes and made them smile
And every night he walked from the plain down the dusty road
Back through the forest and to the ship
And when he shut the door on the cabin and stared out the window
Through the flood of water
His smile would fall off
And his eyes would be sad
III.
I am the moonlight
The dappled beams
Flashing on the backs of wolves
Running
Because it is pure joy
Pure harmony
To run together
In the moonlight
IV.
He looked through the spy glass and saw her
Making love with a man not her husband
But from in the distance
She looked through the spy glass
And saw his anguish as his wife defiled herself
Watching the watcher weep
She smiled and turned away
The watcher's watcher, the watcher, and the wife
Monday, June 09, 2008
^#...#^
Rip out like a bat from hell
She's so quiet now
Like a little china doll
Pretty like being burned alive
Her soul didn't survive
If it was ever there at all
She's so quiet now
Like a little china doll
Pretty like being burned alive
Her soul didn't survive
If it was ever there at all
Friday, June 06, 2008
Saturday, May 31, 2008
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
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
Sunday, May 25, 2008
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
In the dark
Graceful falls from
Heights
That make your head spin
Miraculous recovery
And we do it again
Repeating for
Eternity then
Stop
Monday, May 12, 2008
Hardly Fluid
Requiem
My broken china dolls
Failed songs slumbering beside me
Butterfly wings
Familiar faces pass by running
Requiem
My broken china dolls
Failed songs slumbering beside me
Butterfly wings
Familiar faces pass by running
Requiem
Sunday, April 27, 2008
'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
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
Monday, April 14, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
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
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
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
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
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
Monday, February 04, 2008
Saturday, February 02, 2008
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
“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
Saturday, January 26, 2008
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
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
Thursday, January 10, 2008
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?
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?
Friday, January 04, 2008
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
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
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