Standing on the stairwell she realized that she’s lost again. Blank gazes from heaven freezes her to hell. Drilling eyes of disappointment screws deeper into her soles. Preventing her from moving forward and forces her to watch as everyone continues to climb.
If she stood here long enough will her hair become rotten, her skin turn to soft lovely moss as she becomes another past without a future? Another tear fallen with the rain, will she be forgotten?
She is unsure.
So she sits and waits.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Grey Skin
She was a statue carved in marble. A smooth mockery of perfection as her stone hand pressed and caressed the warm skin of yet another secret lover.
I am freezing. Or maybe it was my cracked heart.
Did the chill bother them? Would they leave like the rest? Be someone who couldn’t stand the cold? Her world was cracking and falling apart.
Sigh, Again.
And she fucking hated knowing it was always her fault.
I am freezing. Or maybe it was my cracked heart.
Did the chill bother them? Would they leave like the rest? Be someone who couldn’t stand the cold? Her world was cracking and falling apart.
Sigh, Again.
And she fucking hated knowing it was always her fault.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Sinneslust
She wanted a new mask, one less translucent. Her friends started noticing the horns on her head, the little devil's tail swinging on her heels and the smell of repent. If the drugs didn't kill her the side effects will.
She needed the new sins scented all over her, needing to taste this beautiful tragedy. A deep inhale will make her fly. Having her wings ripped from the seam is much worst than dying.
Her allure is so contagious. With diseased eyes and a wicked tongue she watches as you fall and samples as you cum.
Taking you down where baptize drown the young. She is one of the fallen, and if she must go under she will take you with her in the long run.
She needed the new sins scented all over her, needing to taste this beautiful tragedy. A deep inhale will make her fly. Having her wings ripped from the seam is much worst than dying.
Her allure is so contagious. With diseased eyes and a wicked tongue she watches as you fall and samples as you cum.
Taking you down where baptize drown the young. She is one of the fallen, and if she must go under she will take you with her in the long run.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Untitled
She wished to cut off her tongue. The weight of its swollen ignorance was too much to bear. Gagging and vomiting up boulder ton beliefs mixed with lack of forethought created green coloured stupidity. She discovered words sometimes weighed unevenly on different kinds of culture validity scales. As stone and air.
A cold war danced around inside her mouth. Enemy sentences lay under mounds waiting, dying, and burning. In the indecisive ash, she couldn’t hold the remains of remorse, the amusing disbelief and pride together. One must come out to play.
She wondered which of them will first occur. Maybe she will get lucky and none of them would be needed to be said.
But that is highly doubted.
A cold war danced around inside her mouth. Enemy sentences lay under mounds waiting, dying, and burning. In the indecisive ash, she couldn’t hold the remains of remorse, the amusing disbelief and pride together. One must come out to play.
She wondered which of them will first occur. Maybe she will get lucky and none of them would be needed to be said.
But that is highly doubted.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Fading addictions
She allowed them to cut a hole in her chest and fucked her heart. It was abstract and it was consuming, and yet not quite. But she needed the pain to smoother the booming emotions she can never extract, assuming there isn't any alcoholic contact.
She had french inhaled the menthol and allowed it to sloshing around in her brain. It only granted minimal satisfaction.
Oh how she loved the irony.
What should an addict to physical pleasure do. When they reach the peak in a leisure life that lacks deeper meaning. What other satisfactions can she seek?
To be or not to be, and oh woe is she.
She had french inhaled the menthol and allowed it to sloshing around in her brain. It only granted minimal satisfaction.
Oh how she loved the irony.
What should an addict to physical pleasure do. When they reach the peak in a leisure life that lacks deeper meaning. What other satisfactions can she seek?
To be or not to be, and oh woe is she.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Daydream
Her body craved more. Released pressure seeped down her knotted back and constricting chest, through the womb and out her slick sex.
Trembling snaked around her calves and thighs. Her state of being relax and opened maybe a little bit too wide, with her brain ready to be pulled out. Separation of body, heart and mind helps with unavoidable doubts.
She licked her lips like a she-wolf near a flock. Quick fucks always left her whorishly wanting more as she was left daydreaming for feminize fingers imitating a cock.
Trembling snaked around her calves and thighs. Her state of being relax and opened maybe a little bit too wide, with her brain ready to be pulled out. Separation of body, heart and mind helps with unavoidable doubts.
She licked her lips like a she-wolf near a flock. Quick fucks always left her whorishly wanting more as she was left daydreaming for feminize fingers imitating a cock.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Sapphic
The bedspread said obscenities as I watched it from across the room. Standing naked for my audience. Flirting with night. Many have seen the show before, so they all know what to assume.
This one was different. During our promiscuous nights she had bit a little too hard. Leaving on me pretty little slut marks.
Clothing tossed all around. I stared at impassively not moving to dress. Light snores of another lay in another world. I wanted to join her but I cant stand the smell and loved look at how beautiful her skin looked unmarred. So I watch and let her rest for a bit.
But making sure to split before the sun unfurled.
This one was different. During our promiscuous nights she had bit a little too hard. Leaving on me pretty little slut marks.
Clothing tossed all around. I stared at impassively not moving to dress. Light snores of another lay in another world. I wanted to join her but I cant stand the smell and loved look at how beautiful her skin looked unmarred. So I watch and let her rest for a bit.
But making sure to split before the sun unfurled.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Promises
Her mouth is like a secret that promises to be unforgetable...
as are the thoughts of a short encounter. Dry in the winter and cracked from humor, her mouth tinged by the desire envelopee by the filter. As she takes a drag smoke seeps and pours through her lungs as the secret's hope of recognition pounds through her aching head.
...Whispering sweet nothings waiting to be said.
To you my little uncertainty.
as are the thoughts of a short encounter. Dry in the winter and cracked from humor, her mouth tinged by the desire envelopee by the filter. As she takes a drag smoke seeps and pours through her lungs as the secret's hope of recognition pounds through her aching head.
...Whispering sweet nothings waiting to be said.
To you my little uncertainty.
Women of the Streets
The night burns her tongue making her gag but she force down its compliance. The poisen was strong but she wanted to feel the tingling sensation of cuming without a conscience.
Loneliness is one hell of a drug, says the lush to the lust in the mirror. She will never be able to see straight, ironically she thank fucking God for that. Her panties was wet from the first glance, watching tonights harlot cum nearer.
She need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside. Wanting herself die a little bit, she takes one more hit from her questionable cigarette. She strips out of her skin just for a while. Letting the chaser smooth the ride, to making the night less bumpy of a journey.
Loneliness is one hell of a drug, says the lush to the lust in the mirror. She will never be able to see straight, ironically she thank fucking God for that. Her panties was wet from the first glance, watching tonights harlot cum nearer.
She need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside. Wanting herself die a little bit, she takes one more hit from her questionable cigarette. She strips out of her skin just for a while. Letting the chaser smooth the ride, to making the night less bumpy of a journey.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Swiming
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.
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.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Soulmates
She desired to kiss, touch, and feel her lovers but to never become their possession. They were all too unworthy, of such love.
Its wrong to hold oneself in such high esteem, some may suggest. Such a pretentious nature will only lead her down a path of eternal loneliness.
But that is wrong to assume such thoughts about her. If she ever found herself in love, no longer will she wants be her own person. Too long has she lived for herself and desired her soul to become one with the other. You and me would become us. As it should be for soulmates.
If one was prepared to give themselves so fully to another human being then is it in their rights to be finicky?
She thought so.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Half way and still growing
Life was not meant to be complex. Yet she was tangled inside of multiple webs of complications. Growing silk strands of thoughts, actions, decisions, requests, realizations, the list continues on and on.
The trigger was a feeling of irritation. It grew and buzzed around like an invisible bee. She had forgotten the cause, but remembered the sting. She wasnt free to begin with but it was something she could almost manage to live with. (most of the time)
But now.
Today was a horrible day, but at the same time she knew that it will be perfect compared to the next.