It was her heart that the knife took as its victim. The culprit already another face in her sea of memories. The pain persistent with its lingers. Hidden just beyond the hills, pass the point where others can see.
Sweet liquor alleviate the symptoms and she whispers words so softly mimicking a saints prayer and writing words dark as her past sins.
Forgive me father?
She waits to find herself passed out against the cool linoleum floors yet again. Its unavoidable she knows this and yet...
So fragile but never on the outside. No never in front of pretty brown eyes. Her beautiful butterfly wings are always getting crushed in that L shaped net and yet...
Subconsciously hope without the acknowledgment, that there is no regret. Feel without realization only diving into temptation. Head first and naked.
She stop painting a clowns face on herself. Falling once more for the circus tricks, she promised never again. It was her heart that the knife took as the victim when once upon a time there was one that she truly thought adored.
Didnt want to add to sea of memories. The piranhas are already being over fed. But a part of her wanted to learning how to swim again.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Daydreaming
Sadness is reflected in eyes of the aware. During rare occasions when I shift my sight beyond the physical world, for just a second I catch a glimpse of happiness.
Those inevitably refreshing glimpses carry me through the reverberations which still haven't settled.
Sweet visions sing to the mind and give soothing rest to her dark intricate thoughts. Such restlessness, tests and press against cracks of her sight. Webbing almost breaking with each pounding assault.
Shards pressing deep under the smiles, as tiny pieces fall along the edges.
We bask together under the warmness of the dreaming window. Hidden in each other faults. Completely subdued we are mentally enthralled. But disappointingly we must soon wake up before the cracks reach beyond our walls.
Those inevitably refreshing glimpses carry me through the reverberations which still haven't settled.
Sweet visions sing to the mind and give soothing rest to her dark intricate thoughts. Such restlessness, tests and press against cracks of her sight. Webbing almost breaking with each pounding assault.
Shards pressing deep under the smiles, as tiny pieces fall along the edges.
We bask together under the warmness of the dreaming window. Hidden in each other faults. Completely subdued we are mentally enthralled. But disappointingly we must soon wake up before the cracks reach beyond our walls.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The apple dont fall to far from the family tree
Pressure just under her eyes. She will not cry has become her new motto, as of tomorrow. But it hurts so much mother.
I know baby just accept the pain with a kind heart, open smiles, and a half empty bottle of wine.
Oh mother if you had to choose over, she hope you would choose the other.
But being her mothers daughter causes the pressure of depression and emotional repression to take toll. And dear sweet father, so confused about the world with an already to heavy to carry soul.
Drunken days makes the night more bearable when you are passed out. Cant be awake to open the door of mistakes. Trying to live without facing failures of life. But the numbers seem to increased tenfold everyday.
Sighing is becoming another habit. Thank you mother. Thank you father. She is the pride and joy of a used to be happy daughter.
I know baby just accept the pain with a kind heart, open smiles, and a half empty bottle of wine.
Oh mother if you had to choose over, she hope you would choose the other.
But being her mothers daughter causes the pressure of depression and emotional repression to take toll. And dear sweet father, so confused about the world with an already to heavy to carry soul.
Drunken days makes the night more bearable when you are passed out. Cant be awake to open the door of mistakes. Trying to live without facing failures of life. But the numbers seem to increased tenfold everyday.
Sighing is becoming another habit. Thank you mother. Thank you father. She is the pride and joy of a used to be happy daughter.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Another day
The words she didn't say were still ringing in her head. No...not ringing. Screaming! Wanting and needing to come pouring out. Like the liquor she knows she shouldn't have drunk. But the heart whispers doubts and sows her mouth shut. She must not be weak it says. You need that drunken smile to hide behind a normal front.
Existing in the middle of a day and a dream she finds she is feeling wonderful lost in between. So unaware and yet feeling too much. Seeing things not meant to be seen.
But its the tender touches hurts the most and yet we are addicted to the things we hate. Another burning swallow prevents her from crying too much.
Wanting to runaway from fate, all of life's trials, and the sad faces she see when she closes her eyes. Is nothing but a broken wish.
So pathetic the words scream as she brings the bottle up for another kiss.
Existing in the middle of a day and a dream she finds she is feeling wonderful lost in between. So unaware and yet feeling too much. Seeing things not meant to be seen.
But its the tender touches hurts the most and yet we are addicted to the things we hate. Another burning swallow prevents her from crying too much.
Wanting to runaway from fate, all of life's trials, and the sad faces she see when she closes her eyes. Is nothing but a broken wish.
So pathetic the words scream as she brings the bottle up for another kiss.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Constant buzzing, right behind the left eye. She was melting into the sheets as the night progressed. It would be nice to sleep but this headache does not cease. Sighing as its been 4 days. A sign maybe?
She didnt want to talk anymore. Barely able to hold a smile. After a while the ability to redirect conversations away from her becomes painfully too easy. Trying to ignore that there is something deeply wrong with her.
She knows this. But maybe if repeating 'Im fine' enough times she could fool herself into believing, like she does with everyone else.
She didnt want to talk anymore. Barely able to hold a smile. After a while the ability to redirect conversations away from her becomes painfully too easy. Trying to ignore that there is something deeply wrong with her.
She knows this. But maybe if repeating 'Im fine' enough times she could fool herself into believing, like she does with everyone else.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Drowning an Angel
One day at a time she tells the mirror. It's not good to tell lies it says. I know she replies. Grey clouds her vision, and tears rain down out on the floor. She didnt know how she can face to the horror of another fucking day.
When did life become such a chore?
When did life become such a chore?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Bowed head touches the ground
Slave to her muse with pain as her King, working her harder and harder each day! She cries as she fuse with his words. She wants not to believe. But...night after night his misery never going away, when the sun rise.
She tries to mesh together a calm face with restlessness emotion. But its not enough. God please help her find the solution to this inner commotion. Argh! Because its just not ENOUGH!
Too pist to thing straight, anger intoxicate her with every staggering step and yet she keeps searching around. Blindly. Trying to please her King because she is Queen. But uneasiness will forever lie in the head that wears the crown.
As she is soon starting to see.
She tries to mesh together a calm face with restlessness emotion. But its not enough. God please help her find the solution to this inner commotion. Argh! Because its just not ENOUGH!
Too pist to thing straight, anger intoxicate her with every staggering step and yet she keeps searching around. Blindly. Trying to please her King because she is Queen. But uneasiness will forever lie in the head that wears the crown.
As she is soon starting to see.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Conversation
Who was talking? The world sounded so funny now a days, everyone was speaking into a cloth. A muffled sentence or phrase. Like speaking normally is a concept that everyone seem to just have, forgot!
Nostalgia started when I was a child, who used to cover her ears and hum to block out the shouting. Now many years later I tend to think my ears are still ringing because of it.
Who was speaking me or her? I cant distinguish who is who when the emotion, suffering, pain, and bitterness of our voices runs together so deep. Really similar she and I. Is it because of these paralle likeness that I makes me wanna crawl into her lap and sleep?
The rain clouds in my mind clears when she smiles, and I felt the need to capture that sunshine moment. I want to listen, because she is shy. And when I do, it dont change that fact that my hands are still cold and my faces still wet but I find that my thoughts become warm just for a sec.
Thank you.
Nostalgia started when I was a child, who used to cover her ears and hum to block out the shouting. Now many years later I tend to think my ears are still ringing because of it.
Who was speaking me or her? I cant distinguish who is who when the emotion, suffering, pain, and bitterness of our voices runs together so deep. Really similar she and I. Is it because of these paralle likeness that I makes me wanna crawl into her lap and sleep?
The rain clouds in my mind clears when she smiles, and I felt the need to capture that sunshine moment. I want to listen, because she is shy. And when I do, it dont change that fact that my hands are still cold and my faces still wet but I find that my thoughts become warm just for a sec.
Thank you.