the endi trust you with my burning tearsand with all the secrets that I have kepti give them to you for all hope is now gonethe fears have overcome my lifeguilt is now my overwhelming enemymemories of sunsets are forever fadingi embrace the dark as an ever present loverthis embrace of yours sears my soul to the coremy end is now rapidly approachingthere is little left for me to do nowafter all that I've tried for all these yearsit seems like a poor excuse of a lifewhen it is finally over I will still not be at peacemy soul will be condemned to wander eternallyto seek forgiveness from those that I have harmedfrom loves lost and promises that I made that were brokeni drop to my knees and scream at the sky and shoutremove this burden and let me finally be at peace
wheresome of us laughsome of us cryothers ignoreuntil one of us diesthe dark turns to lightclouds move awayrays of lightilluminate the waythe path that was chosen
holidays and hell daysholidays are hell daysthe things that wereperpetrated against mewhile at the very leastwere criminal actsbut more importantlythey removed allhappiness from my lifebeing molested and yesraped on every singleholiday and birthdayfor a four year periodeliminated anything joyousfrom my entire beingi now find excuses to spendsuch days alone with my tearsmy fears and my angeri cannot feel like you dochristmas holds no specialappeal as does new yearseaster is but a time of painand birthdays are days of horrori am and always will be alonemy year holds but 365 daysand none of them are specialthey may be especially painfulbut that is about it they arejust another day for toacknowledge them would beto let him win and by not acknowledgingthem i let him win anywayso my options are to put ona false face and die insideor to just lock myself awayuntil the joyous occasion haspassed beyond existence
Battle Lifeas i sit and enjoy my coffeein the stillness of predawn hoursmy mind suddenly slips into nothingnesswhere it wanders to i haven't a clueIt is in the stillness,when my mind is allowed to roamthat i find myself thinking backto times not acknowledged in the waking hoursbut it is the time not acknowledgedwhich gives me cause to pausefor memories of the past are plagueand i wish not to suffer from themDays gone by, the battlefield,my mind, the perfect enemy,thoughts and feelings attackfrom every corner of my mind.memories are what frightens mei know not what lurks in those cornersshall i embrace this fine madnessor should i just drown the memoriesThe onslaught of attacktorrents my stream of consciousness,so, in defeat, I retreat into my head;there I wait until I am strong once more.
Longing for GraceChaining you downI see your eyes dilateI see your muscles tenseI see everything I want in front of meBut I can not have any of itAll that is within my grasp is but airUnseen forces are holding me back from youI see everything I want in front of meMy vision is messed upNot what it once wasMy need for you has increasedDespite my unwillingness to make you mineI feel the restraints that are holding me backA dense fog clouds my visionThere is a hunger for you that I have not felt in agesAnd I am not willing to succumb to these devicesI don't want to want youAs much as I doI want you to want meFor you to feel this feeling tooMy hunger for you is voraciousAll I need is to hold you within my armsOur bodies pressed together as oneMy whole being aches to be yoursAnd then when you give inAnd press your lips to mineI know that you love meYou were just pretending all this timeMy mind and body are not oneThough our lips are locked togetherMy body is screaming out yesBu
confusioni've finally made up my mindmaybe notis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this is my normali want to be alonei hate to be alonei can't stand the silencei need the silenceis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this my normali know what i wanti'm not surei'm upi'm downi'm all aroundi'm here i'm therei'm every whereis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this is my normali'm calmi'm uneasyi trust youi don't trust you...
a ravaged heartoncethere was a soul insidesomething to keepthe shell togetherbut that's been deadfor a long time nowand any vestigesof hold that once werethey are now goneand there is nothing leftto keep me from falling to piecesso my skin rips itself apartto show what little remains insideit solely consists of asmall, frozen and broken heartit used to be a human hearta heart like any otherhere lies what happensto a heart in the real mortal world
some call her Xactoher bodyso long and slenderfits perfectly in my handshe comeswith many differenttypes of bladesshe livesin a comfortablepadded wooden boxshe likeswhen i take her outfor our special datesshe alwaysis prepared for anythinglines, curves or wordsshe ismeticulous abouther cutting edgesshe takegreat pridein her appearanceshe hatesher given name Xactoi call her Opheliashe onlyspeaks to meshe ignores the rest of the worldshe willcompliment meon a job well doneshe saysthat my blood is likea fine wine sweet yet mellowshe hasnever broken a promise to meunlike most of the other womenshe isperfect in all manner and formshe is my Opheliaand I'll never leave her
the sun ... my enemythe sunmy enemyrecharges my mindmy thoughtsbegin to raceway beyond their normthe sunmy enemyrecharges my illnessi begin to shakemy hands tremblei can't focusthe sunmy enemyrecharges my nightmaresi can no longersleep to dreambut i sleep to screamthe sunmy enemyrecharges the urgesi fight to control themand all there nasty thoughtsof death and harmthe sunmy enemyrecharges my death wishsuicidal ideationsplaque every waking momentthe tools of destruction are handythe sunmy enemyrecharges the painpain so intolerablethat I wish to perishto wither awaythe sunmy enemyis also my friend
here's to society1all those doctors who constantly measure mesay i'm "1.59... And 5mm - that's almost 1.60"because they can't look at my sad face(everyone's so high above me)and tell me this body's too small to evercontain anything great2i avoid those numbersbecause 5 too much mean sittingin the fat kids' corner all weekwatching the others eat puddingand 1 kilo still means mockeryfriends patting my stomachguys telling me I shouldn't eatand "i'll always have these curvesbecause i'm a lady" is no excuse,"french of the 16th centurywould've admired these hips" is no argumentnow i'm starting to feel like i fit myselfelven girl, steps of dusti could dance up there in the cloudswith my mindthey're gonna weigh me on the 30thmother says she knows it's too littlebut i still have my wasp waistand rococo hipsand all the wrong kinds of beauty(but someone's gotta love them, huh)crazy girl, i don't like butterfliesbut me in my striped tights3last year i stopped dyingmy hair, i
i. my little pigeon,you walk the line betweenreality and imagination, strayinginto the unknown and bringingback little pieces of wonderwith you when you return.ink drips from your fingers asyou smear words onto pages,breathing life into stiff piecesof paper torn from your notebook.coffee may be where i foundmy home, but it's tea that runsthrough my veins. i could braidyour hair for hours, letting the silkystrands run through my fingers likeyour words run through my heart.we can walk into the sunrise together,holding hands and laughing. i will sharethe sunsets i hold in my tiny palms,and you can share the stories you lockin your heart. i want to travel the worldwith you, pointing out the little quirksthat make up people and stumblinginto adventures behind little shopsand backwards alley ways. i hopeyou remember your handkerchief,or we might end up flying there andback again in the blink of an eye.
Call it Fallthere's a soft kiss ofmedium-rare sunlightin the barelybroken bonesof this October dayjust warm enoughto think that summermay have stasheda day or twoin our pocketsbut each tomorrowreminds us morethat it didn'tthat this autumnknows little lifeoutside its barrelof choking appleswhere yellowjacketsbore, conquer and,still sweet,curl into a coolslow sleepof frozen dreamspaused in dawn'sblanket of frostthese short daysunder long nightscount down toa new beginningof the enda dark springof bright blushand angerthat will burn this forestnot down, but nakedand we call it Fallas if there's a misstepor slip involvedas if we make a choiceor skip the chanceto not veerfrom daylight's trailonto these our printsso well worn and re-worninto timetwo human sets enterand where it goesfrom theregets lost in thecrunch of leavesbeneath usour moon stays lowgiving trees new lifeand wind carries crieslike song, for miles
decodei pinedunequivocallyfor the quillin soft shadows:the swallow's smileand toothyflightthe curveof treebowsrotting-freshto planta buduphigh andhemlocking-mebetween a dreamand sleepand sleepand sleepyou musn't worryI have foundan ink-sourcethus:a quibblingcreek -my soul!It willblossomlike poppieson the pagebefore me,myfingertipthe pen
ten.why don't we sit underthe hangmans noose;contemplate lifefor a bit.watch the crows hustle aroundthesefrayed ropes, and listen to thewind rustle dirt'sleaves.there's a cool breeze comingthrough,almost too cold, its...bitter.so let's just walk away and seek thewarmthunder these charcoalfeathers.[its a comforting feeling to have life, anddeath in your control. ]
people don't listen (you've just too much to say)we fell asleep in hotel rooms filled with stars, the leaky faucet in the kitchenette dripping galaxiesinto oblivion. they might have faded by the morning, butthey were beautiful while theylasted, drifting inand out of f o c u s with the ebbingof a neon-light tide -it reminded me that beautyfades with ageno matter how brightyou may shine . (black holes are so cliche, but they're some kind of nothing made from something and that's beautiful enough for me)
tired...its no usethis may bemy swan songthe last hurraheverything isnow headedin one directiona solutionall oflifes problemsare weighingme downno one toturn toand nowhereto gothe solutionseems simplejust put an endto all the pain