of my love,
hidden in poetry.
I shouldn't hide it,
like I do.
So i'm writing.
The doubts in my
mind are clouded,
by happiness.
There is nothing i
could say, do, or think,
to make you understand how this feels.
Sometimes I can't even
look at you,
because I'm smiling.
I didn't want to be
the one left,
feeling dumb.
but as god has showed me,
everyone can use a little,
heartache.
and baby, if you break it,
it's okay,
because you fixed it in the beginning.
It's times like these that,
I hate women...
when they get like this.
But I feel...
...Like...
I AM love...and it hurts.
- Mood:
okay
"I don't know...not hard at all" His voice trembled at her accusing glare.
"Wrong. Why do people think it's easy, to just do something like that, like there isn't a fight involved at all, like I was a total piece of shit." She was yelling now.
"Well, then what is it really like?" She laughs at him, and it echoes in his ears.
"You really want to know?"
"yes. I Do."
"I usually make the decision to cut hours before I do it. And spend the time in between weighing my choices. My options. But somehow it usually goes in favor of mutilation. So I get a fresh razor, start the shower, and get in. Sometimes I lean against the shower wall, but when it's really bad, I lay down, or kneel. The cutting itself isn't the hard part at all. That's simple. I just hold the razor aginst my skin, and pull until it catches my skin. And I do it over and over until I feel better. It really is satisfying, to know that all the pain, and guilt you felt, can pour out of your wrists, legs, chest, wherever. I don't expect you to understand it at all, but it's my addiction. Mine."
"I understand more than you know, because you are my addiction, and I would do anything to be with you, even if it takes being the person you yell at"
- Location:Bed
- Mood:
sleepy - Music:Kelly Clarkson-Gone
the memories from his scent
just won't leave her.
Hugging from behind,
Those hands find their place
and before it's to late...she pauses...and rewinds.
She's sitting,
always crying.
She's Kissing,
always crying.
She's wrong,
She's always wrong.
That song in the background,
finds it's way back
into her bed and makes a terrible sound.
That sickening smile,
burns it's way into her future,
and her scream is heard for miles.
She's sitting,
always crying.
She's Kissing,
always crying.
She's wrong,
She's always wrong.
The devil broke her body,
and she won't smile until she's walked through hell.
She's sitting,
always crying.
She's Kissing,
always crying.
She's wrong,
She's always wrong
- Mood:
calm
well, honey I do too.
If I could put two inside of me,
I'd do it just for you.
It's great to know your best friend hates you,
for being happy now.
I'm sorry you couldn't do that for me,
and i'm sorry if i'm not down.
But if you think i'm gonna foget this,
you won't be given another chance.
I remember how you left me,
and honey, i'm not doing this dance.
I've found me other friends,
and someday soon i'll get away.
I'll leave you far behind me,
and tomorrow start a new day.
Now rhyming is the last thing I do,
but you have driven me to it.
And If you pull a gun on you,
I won't care one bit.
Because I have my share of guilt,
and i'm doing quite a bit better.
and if you think you want to kill me too,
then you can write shakespear your letters.
It's sad that this is how it has to be,
but it was your choice.
I tried to play nice,
I tried to give you a voice.
So as you ride off into that sunset,
remember whose the outlaw.
Because baby, you've messed with me,
and I'm the badest mother you ever saw.
TAKE THAT ASSHOLE!
to be a-alone?
I look in the mirror.
He has dropped off the last of my belongings.
I collapse against my plain white wall.
and I take a swig,
from my newly aquired flask.
It numbs my pain.
I look at all my clothes,
and I watch him carry my memories,
in through the door,
and dump them on my floor.
I am cold,
because I have to be.
I act like i'm fine with it all,
Like I'm a big girl.
His last words.
"see you around shannon"
He was colder than I could
ever be.
My door slams,
and I realize where I am.
How did I get here.
And why can't I breathe?
The only man I have ever loved,
told me he'd see me around.
I think back to the moment I fell out of love.
Tried to bring those feelings of hate back.
But I feel noting but sadness,
because I have to be an adult,
I have to care for myself,
when I don't care at all.
I take it back,
my mind tells me.
I don't want to be alone,
I think about caving.
Calling the man,
whose heart I stomped.
Because I didn't think he could
take care of me.
I still don't,
but I sure as hell can't.
I can't even stop crying,
or even stand.
Now I have to rely on a woman,
for once.
I have to rely on the worst one,
Me.
I think back to highschool,
I was still taken care of by men.
Middle school?
For god's sake, Elementry school?
How do I always go from having
it all,
to having all
of nothing.
I'm scared,
completely and,
utterly...
Scared shitless.
how easy it could be...
To succeed, to go through with it.
As much as we want it,
we are too scared...
to take the final steps
We are still young enough,
to think that...
There is still time to change.
But what happens,
when we don't...
don't improve with time?
What a day that will be,
when we give up...
completely.
Part of me honestly
thinks it will happen...
part of me wants to be happy.
But we are both,
too aware to which part...
is stronger.
It gets bad,
now and again...
as we know.
And when it does,
I think of you...
Pray that you are safe.
But whatever makes
you happy dear...
I won't stop you.
I'm in your shoes,
as much as...
you are in mine.
But I love you,
In a pure sence...
Just like you to know.
That you're here,
in my heart...
when I need you.
give up on your dreams...
Just to be happy?
That's crap.
You know that's what,
you never wanted to be.
What a whimp You are,
to give in,
to society.
You'll never know,
If you don't get,
the fuck out of here.
You've been through
harder obstacles,
why is this any different?
Push out these thoughts,
so you can go back to,
the beautiful people.
Be the one who,
gives up happiness,
to finally fufill your dreams.
- Mood:
rejected
Steven: There are a lot of things that still remind my of her ( his thin body shakes, with the force of holding back tears). When I wake up in the morning, and comb my hair, I still see strands of her long gold curls. She was such a beautiful woman. It breaks my heart to know that I won't get to spend the rest of my life with her, but I am grateful she had the chance to spend the rest of hers with me. I'm trying to be as uplifting as possible, because I know She wouldn't have it any other way. She would want there to be music playing, and maybe children coloring, instead of paying attention, kind of like church. But we all know that such a wonderful woman, needs to be mourned, as almost common courtesy. But this is not how she wanted to go, this is not how she wanted to be remembered. Normal people like us hope for nothing more than to die in our sleep, next to the person they loved. But she always told me, she said 'Steven, I want to go in a plane crash...' (He starts to break up) ...'or a scuba accident...or maybe even a land slide.' She said she wanted er last moments on earth to be exciting."
(He shakes his head, and we realize, he was not in front of a crowd, but standing in front of a mirror, practicing. He shrinks to the floor, and stares blankly into the glass.)
"Baby...Baby I can't do this without you. I can't be the same man, I can't breath, or eat, or clean without your smile, without your hands." (He stands, and turns to the sink to pick up his brush. He stares at it for a second, and then pulls out a long blonde strand of hair) "What do I do, When You have disappeared completely. When Your perfume is gone, when I get older and your memory fades. What will I be then? Nothing, I am nothing without you. Nothing."
- Location:Bed
- Mood: sleepy
- Music:Bubbly
your sex has finally killed me to the core.
I've been love by you.
I've been hit by you.
I've cried over you,
and yet I've devoted my life to you.
Making the same mistakes,
as women before me.
Relying on your kind,
Your Piece of Shit kind.
Wanting friendship,
wanting so much more than sex.
Can you really just love a woman?
Have we been conditioned to think it's possible,
by these pathetic "chic flicks"
But i'll go back to you.
To the men that accuse me,
of being worthless.
To the men that accuse me,
Of not trying hard enough.
Well, this one...
This hole, this red, this pain,
This is for you.
Enjoy it, watch me suffer.
Watch me turn into what I never wanted to be,
Watch me die.
Peices of shit!
- Mood: crushed
candles lit, shaved legs.
Why?
Because I can.
Sexy hair,
great smelling lotion.
No worries,
because i'm free.
Dancing in the living room,
a cute outfit.
No man can make me feel,
as pretty as I feel now.
I may giggle,
I may sing at the top of my lungs.
Pamper myself,
Lift my self-esteem.
Bliss.
- Mood:
bouncy
- Location:Courtney's
- Mood: bored
- Music:complete silence
 |
Lost my wings |
"Why Are you Drinking? Why are you upset, you always shut down, why can't you just talk to me?"
(Do you think people really try to get through to me? I don't, If they did, they would see the things I write, and listen, to my words. Though I'm not speaking to you, I still mean it.)
Why is he focusing on all my faults right now, when that's the exact same thing I'm doing. So I just sit here in silence. Nod when I gave to and grunt where needed. Because he takes that to mean I don't need him or anyone else for that matter, and what I need more than anything is someone. Someone I can tell everything to. Someone I can tell my deepest lies to. but i'm falling apart, and men take that to mean that they fucked up, and they should leave me. And THAT is fucking up! I'm so angry, I left the one man, who was FINALLY starting to get it. But I don't want to be with him. At all. I want him to be here. but not with me. I'm rambling in my thoughts again. i can see him starring at me in my doorway. He want's reasurrance, but i cannpt give it.
"well, I guess I'll go since you obviously don't want me here."
Yea, which Is why I'm dating you, because I don't want you here. GODDDDDDDDDDD why are men so angry. Sometimes I wish I liked women, because at least they get it most of the time. But I don't I like men. Stupid, asshole, jurk men.
Story of my life.
I wanna go home...
I need some grace, and it will be the first time in years since i've fallen back on it. Would it be saving like it used to be? I feel weak, not angry. not depressed. Not sad...weak. I feel weak. and as much as i'd like faithto solve all my problems, it won't. When I was younger, faith to me was watching prince of egypt once a week, and going to church every sunday. Faith now is having faith that i'll be able to function tomorrow. That can't be right. Why do we loose our faith as adults, and how do some people just stand strong?
- Location:Bedroom
- Music:Plumb-I can't do this
- Location:bedroom
- Music:Whiskey Lullabye
Same routine. I show up thirty minutes early, and flip through one of the cooking magazines, look at all the stuff people say I miss out on. People are pigs. Eating this shit. I’ve got too many things to be worrying about for me to care weather I enjoy a ten layer truffle made of pure fat. As the time passes, I wonder why I never see anyone else enter or exit. Sure, that makes me want to spill my guts to a stranger. The lights are all very dim, to sooth people. I hate to admit it did help. The colors are all in blue’s and light green’s, almost like a baby’s room. Someone obviously went way above and beyond to make people comfortable, I wonder if it worked? I couldn’t tell you if it helped me at all, my palms were like a sauna.
“Are you ready” A larger woman, came out of an even dimer lit room, and smiled at me.
I didn’t say anything, (not a good start) I just went in, found my chair, and hugged a pillow until I couldn’t breath.
“Well, how was your week? Are you eating better? Did you do that thing we talked about last week?” She irritated me. Her enthusiasm for my problems was a bit sickening.
“Yea, I’ve been trying to” Translation...No
“Good, have you been listening to happier music?” I knew I should have never told this lady about my music.
“Uhm, Yea.” Translation...no. What am I getting out of this again? Thirty minutes of a fat lady looking at a skinny girl, and wonder why possibly don’t I love food as much as she obviously does. I hated the way she looked at me. I’m here so in ten years when I complain about my mother never paying attention to me, she’ll have the right to say ‘I put you in therapy for two months, and it cost me a fortune’. That is why I’m here.
“What are your plans tonight?” Wow, did she really go to school so she could ask me things like ‘what are your plans tonight’?
“Probably just go to sleep when I get home”
“It’s seven o’clock?”
“I know, I like to sleep. It makes me happy” Truth, no need to lie about sleeping habits.
“Well you should try to hold off for a while, maybe go home and eat with your family, I’m sure they’d love that.” Eat with my family? Ha. So we can all sit around and watch survivor while eating Arby’s? This woman actually makes me want to go home, listen to some depressing music, cry myself to sleep, and perhaps never eat again.
“Oh, Our times up.” She smiles and ushers me to the door. As I walk out I wonder why I haven’t killed myself yet? I wonder If I did she’d rethink her career?
“Are you ready” A larger woman, came out of an even dimer lit room, and smiled at me.
I didn’t say anything, (not a good start) I just went in, found my chair, and hugged a pillow until I couldn’t breath.
“Well, how was your week? Are you eating better? Did you do that thing we talked about last week?” She irritated me. Her enthusiasm for my problems was a bit sickening.
“Yea, I’ve been trying to” Translation...No
“Good, have you been listening to happier music?” I knew I should have never told this lady about my music.
“Uhm, Yea.” Translation...no. What am I getting out of this again? Thirty minutes of a fat lady looking at a skinny girl, and wonder why possibly don’t I love food as much as she obviously does. I hated the way she looked at me. I’m here so in ten years when I complain about my mother never paying attention to me, she’ll have the right to say ‘I put you in therapy for two months, and it cost me a fortune’. That is why I’m here.
“What are your plans tonight?” Wow, did she really go to school so she could ask me things like ‘what are your plans tonight’?
“Probably just go to sleep when I get home”
“It’s seven o’clock?”
“I know, I like to sleep. It makes me happy” Truth, no need to lie about sleeping habits.
“Well you should try to hold off for a while, maybe go home and eat with your family, I’m sure they’d love that.” Eat with my family? Ha. So we can all sit around and watch survivor while eating Arby’s? This woman actually makes me want to go home, listen to some depressing music, cry myself to sleep, and perhaps never eat again.
“Oh, Our times up.” She smiles and ushers me to the door. As I walk out I wonder why I haven’t killed myself yet? I wonder If I did she’d rethink her career?
three at a time.
To wash away my thoughts.
It works well,
but there isn’t always a shower,
my new remedy.
There is always a new remedy.
A quick fix, some good thoughts.
But never a cure.
Seeing the world as black and white,
everyone white.
Me black.
What a self-centered view point.
To be the only unhappy person,
that’s not fair.
Is that what people think?
That I’m selfish.
I know it is.
I try to tell myself I don’t care.
But I do.
Why are people so cruel?
I don’t bother you,
so why am I your focal point,
for all things evil.
I’m so held back,
it’s hard.
Why can’t I do anything.
I can’t take,
my lack of supervision,
always wanting to take advantage.
But there is always that fear,
that someone will see.
Hate me for being selfish.
The Truman show.
That’s how I feel,
everyone watching...
But no one helping.
- Mood: crushed
She didn't have time,
that was the song.
Honey baby dear,
Makes me wanna scream.
Don't be a pansy,
I tell myself.
Hahahaha,
Just give in.
I love it,
no really,
I love it.
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one.
Good for me,
Right?
You don't know
what I'm saying!
haha,
I love it,
Code.
Read into to it.
that was the song.
Honey baby dear,
Makes me wanna scream.
Don't be a pansy,
I tell myself.
Hahahaha,
Just give in.
I love it,
no really,
I love it.
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one.
Good for me,
Right?
You don't know
what I'm saying!
haha,
I love it,
Code.
Read into to it.
- Mood: happy
I am a poet writing of my pain.
I am a person living a life of shame.
I am your daughter hiding of depression.
I am your sister making a good impression.
I am your friend acting like I'm fine.
I am a wisher wishing this life wern't mine.
I am a girl who thinks of scuicide.
I am a teenager pushing her tears aside.
I am a student who doesn't have a clue.
I am the girl sitting next to you.
I am the one asking you to care.
I am your best friend hoping you'll be there.
Sitting on a couch
staring at the people.
I don't think i've been here before.
I know him, him, him, and her,
everyone else is a blur.
It didn't used to be like this,
the highlight was truth or dare.
the exsillerating first kiss.
Trying so hard to fit in by wearing the right clothes.
Back on the couch.
I've trading kissing for beer,
the kissing is now free,
I take my kisses now,
not recieve them.
We all pay a price for "love" eventually.
Is anyone above the influence.
I wish I could take back the clothes,
take back the kissing,
erase all the beer,
but most of all I wish I hadn't had you
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