dystopia

My head feels like a bowling ball
from lack of sleep,
dense with pain throbs that pierce like hot fingers.
My legs like chemical sticks
from sitting too long,
a knee bend that cracks and sparks white hurt to my toes.
My skin brushes other skin like sandpaper, dry
from lack of touch
and scratches those who try to get too close.
But my mind sits satisfied in its cavity,
I have you.
And my heart expands and fills my chest,
I have you.
Though at night, every inch of my body
every thread of muscle
every skin cell screams
to have you.

Full title: "I HAVE BEEN OVER THIS AND OVER THIS AND OVER THIS. I LIKE WHEN YOU TALK. I LIKE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY. I LIKE HEARING YOU SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY. I DON'T CARE IF YOU THINK YOU'RE RAMBLING ABOUT NOTHING IMPORTANT, BECAUSE TO ME, IT IS IMPORTANT. TO ME, IT IS INTERESTING FOR ONE REASON OR ANOTHER. YOU TALKING IS NOT WASTING MY TIME. YOU TALKING IS SPENDING MY TIME VALUABLY, AND I LIKE IT."

my eyes and my head are just
they are oh
oh so foggy like the avenue on fridays and
if only i could get to sleep.
if only there were no such things as dishes
as clothes on the carpet floor
as if the work didn't need to be done by twelve tomorrow
it's almost like i'm so tired, so
far gone that you're almost here
that you're honestly not that odd number of miles away from here
i am actually not typoing this and backspacing a million miles a mumble
because your hands are on mine, against mine,
and i'm not even typing this at all.

i tell all the time i talk too much
and one day you'll fix that problem with your mouth on mine.

one day you'll make me shut up.

one of these days
i'll tell you everything you need to hear
and i will fucking mean it.

(cross my
heart and hope to
quarters and dimings
and jesus christ and
mermaids aren't i so bad at
rhyming?)

When I breathed that air I thought it would be forever
When I kissed those lips I dreamed of you for my eternity

I held your hand- lifeless-

Your eyes stole my heart and smashed my hope against your emotionless face

I could have loved you enough for the both of us...

                    my sacrifice and never yours
And then I exhaled.
                                    my freedom

My shattered body
Sprawled across the floor
My legs trembling
and head spinning
I try to recollect
the fragments of my mind
I pick the splinters of my memories
out from my hushed tongue
...
My throat combusts into rational screams
I throw myself against the walls
My flame of hate and rage
flickers upon the knife
The twinkle entices me
Addicted to the pain
Anything to cure me
It's my quick fix for
redemption...
Don't take away my remedy

And if you happen to die
before it's my time
I'll happily burn alive
right by you in the furnace
I wouldn't scream, just smile
as the smokes of us rise up high
into the poluted grey sky
Our ashes will mingle together
and be scattered through the winds
which will bring us closer to the heavens
I know I can't join you there though
but I promise to write you letters
from the caverns in my hell
If you promise to forgive me.

sometimes i don't think
it happens in a blink
things fall out of sync
no more hearts to sink
you just want to drink
i go see a shrink

not knowing it hurts your face
traveling uneven pace
mind acts as if it's a race
emotions i want to chase
you're something i can't replace
we'll travel to a great place
and our problems will erase

i would take it back
i'll pick up the slack
all you need to do is pack
back on the right track

try and be there
i'll always care

Blah.

Gio's not talking to me, and as much as I want it to not bother me, it does.


And about my last post, it wasn't about anyone on here, or at least anyone who reads my journal daily. So if we've talked in the last...I don't know, 6 months? Then it's probably not you. I'm just an emo kid.

I feel sick...something isn't settling right in my stomach.

I cut myself some bangs, I felt like being adventurous. So far I've heard it looks really cute. The only thing I don't like is that t kind of makes me look like I'm wearing a wig, dunno why. But I like it for the most part.

omfg Heroes next week akodjf;oaeufj;oalds.

Anyway. I'm unreasonably exhausted, so I think I'll turn in.

I lean like a legend
and love like the Holy Ghost.
Stars aren't grabbed,
but my life is orbital.
Days would be nothing without midnight glue,
or at least that's how I would like it to be.
Tell me what to recite.
People only believe what they are told.

Dancing,

In my gypsy boots.

Twirling around in whiskey and wine.

Jasmine and roses adorned in my hair,

The scent evaporates into thin air.

The break of dawn lets in the sunrise.

Shimmering skin, flecks of rainbow.

Limbs like paint brushes, canvas the floor.

The colors, like candles, glowing and warm.

Daylight, like rain drops, burst to pieces.

The horizon drowns and disappears.

Shattered glass on the floor,

The reflection of moments escape.

Danger ensues, they watch my gypsy boots.

Cracks in my porcelain skin breathe the air.

Tousled and torn, but still debonair.

Darkness erupts, but light emanates

From marine-like moonlight in my eyes.

Trapped, caged, jewelry box dancer;

Broken, bending avant-garde state.

Drifting, ejected, alone on the streets. 

Silently screaming through gypsy boot beats. 

 

I am waiting for the gavel to strike
the verdict to issue
for the sentence to be given
and this waiting to be through

I want the truth to be stated
but mine are tight-closed lips
if only a witness would relay the crime
I would be free from confession

pulling at the flesh

im ready to be bare

dont care what you know

i cant be any worse than you

you had me fooled

played me for a tool

you had me believing

something i will never see

this is the death of me

pulling at the flesh

pulling at the flesh

im ready to be bare

dont care what you know

i cant be any worse than you

you had me fooled

played me for a tool

you had me believing

something i will never see

this is the death of me

pulling at the flesh

 Your eardrums tolerate

the malicious murmur of the overhead projector

as it hums the score

to one dozen dim days

spent in mechanical grey routine.

The whiteboard glares at you,

an offensive monotone of non-color.

Indifferent to its nothingness and nothingness,

You detach yourself

from your desk

from this collection of surfaces in a small space.

Eyes dim,

your head recalls that beach in Spain

the noisy cows you ran past in the hot afternoons,

and the lightness you felt as

sea-salt and skin

sand and the thin pages of your novel

dissolved into each other

in an atmosphere of luminous color.

 
When you see rain on a bright clear sky
Swallow your past and hold on to your pride
We can't go back to the day we were born
We can't rewrite our histories or live in a lie
So scream to the heavens with all your might
Show them you are going to survive

Never give up when all you have is time
Never fall down, never give in to soothing lies
Hold your head up high and you may see
the things you called nothing become everything

The questions in your heart that broke you down
Well they were never meant to be answered
You asked why do we live and why do we die
when you should have asked; how do I live and how do I die?

You waited for a shooting star to guide you
You wished someone would be there to hold you
But why are you waiting, why are you wishing?
Step outside your door, face the road, take a change

You turned me down even though my love was so strong
But it's all right, I'm not going to die
My words aren't empty lines, I live how I speak
Ready to fly, going to sleep hoping the sun will rise

So take my advice, I'll be supporting you
From where I stand I see a beautiful you
From where I stand you shine as bright as the moon
So bright, so right, I believe you will survive

I believe you can be so much more than you realize

BlindDate:
I want my steak rare
I believe the French call it "bleu"
I want blood on my plate
I believe this will be you
I want the whole bottle of wine
I believe you'd like me to share
I want to save sharing for later
I believe there's lust in the air
I want you to tip a whole lot
I believe I'll never see you again
I want you to show off
I believe after tonite this will end
I want a box to go
I believe I didn't touch the food
I want you right now
I believe there's a bathroom...

There’s something about grey winter light,
That’s almost colder than the night.
A pale ghost of the summer’s gold,
It makes me feel a century old,
And mocks me with its silence drear,
“You’re in my grip till springtime’s here.”   

I hear it hiss into my ear
I cannot respond
No longer do my lips sound
She squeezes breath out

Beyond the loss
The failing eyesight
The slowing mind
My breath beomes me

The slow carress
A dance of death
A roiling, coiling
Mass of power

Shadow of failed mind
Life's breath forgotten
I lie upon a pallet
A carcass of yesterday

I opened the drawer and saw it

I picked it up and put my arms through

I looked in the mirror and smiled

I breathed in deep and smelled you

 

The feeling was that of peace

Like a warmth enveloping me

It made everything seem so bright

It’s just a shirt, how could this be

 

Closing my eyes for visions

I saw your smile and felt you hold me

I wrapped my arms around myself

Oh what a sight this was to see

 

I see layers of the wall crumble

My defenses get weaker every day

I try so hard to keep myself in check

Yet you always know the right things to say

 

The fact that I find comfort in a shirt

A piece of cloth held together with string

Is amusing and oh so astonishing

The amount of comfort this item does bring

 

I look forward to going home this evening

And slipping on the shirt again tonight

No matter how much I want to ignore it

There is no denying that this all feels so right