The Next Chapter (blog #2)
This one has a lot more poetry than the first blog, and I am a lot less emotionally unstable, therefore, in my opinion, it is much more tangible. enjoy!
You say all these things, but they're not believable.
Most of the time, they're inconceivable.
How about this?
My wish is just this:
one soul-felt kiss...
one moment in bliss.
I feel like I'm running in a hamster cage,
in front of 6 million on a gigantic stage.
If it were your face
which I could embrace
I might just replace
my misplaced grace.
So what if I can't do a thing about it?
Do I go to the top of the world and shout it?
Open the gate.
Reveal my true fate,
unless it's too late
for my love to create.
If my heart were a boat on the sea it'd be sinking.
if my head were a light in the sky it'd be blinking.
Which do i follow?
I'll either be swallowed
or mindless, and wallow
in sorrow - so hollow.
Does this rhyme even have a purpose?
Read between the lines and under the surface.
All day long
I know I'm wrong.
At least I'm strong
...through this "same old song".
A-one, top notch, first class, diamond soul.
Let me touch your heart and I promise you'll be whole.
So cowardice am I
to not look in your eyes
and only say goodbye
with my head high in the sky.
I could never make a pure and true confession.
I think this is one of my life's great lessons.
My love is abounding,
It feels so astounding,
the love that it's pounding.
Good thing you have grounding.
I don't really know who I am at this time.
Please excuse the riddle of this rhyme.
I'm sorting through
the remains of you.
you don't have a clue
as to what in life's true.
I need you to feel my hands in your hands.
I want you to know that I hold no demands.
Just your eyes,
your smiles and cries,
all love, no lies,
and no disguise.
It's truly a rotting, and broken down dream.
...a beautiful dress with a broken seam.
So here I sit - quiet,
and try to deny it.
My heart and head riot,
and my soul doesn't buy it.
Subject : rambling thoughts
Posted Date: : Mar 27, 2009 11:29 AM
i've been pondering a lot lately on death and dying and how it's the only sure thing in life from the time we're born. it's the only thing we ALL have in common. it seems so strange to me that people (myself included) become so distraught when someone they care for leaves this plane for the next. I think it comes from our own selfishness and not wanting to go through life without that person, or having to deal with any guilt we may feel over unkind words or actions we may have taken towards them, and never being able to admonish our loved ones.
i dont think this is the reason im thinking about it so much.
see, im worried that i could die at any moment and none of you would know how very important each and every one of you has been in my growth and maturity as a soul, and how much i love you. i have been so blessed to have had ALL of the experiences i've had, even bad ones, for, even those times have taught me invaluable lessons.
call me morbid. i call me realistic.
Subject : the gift
Posted Date: : Feb 7, 2009 11:07 AM
today is your birthday, and all i want to do is sing to you. there's a lot of commotion going on outside the box, but it seems happy. lots of laughter, love, dancing, cheers, singing, playing, love.
it was definitely a rough ride all those miles, the road so nauseatingly curved into terrific esses. one may assume that everyone's road is so, but, believe me it's really quite difficult when you're in a box.
i thought, for sure, this journey would have been thwarted at square one when i heard the postal guy question the weight of this package. i guess money is money, and they are, afterall, a government agency.
once i thought i was doomed to death... in the plane. i'm sure i maintained some bruises from that one. i wonder how they treat my guitar when i'm up front.
alas! here i am, at the party, just waiting to be opened. i hope the red bow made it here. the red bow really sets the paper off.
the anticipation of your surprise is almost too much to bear. i feel like bursting through the plywood, and shouting out my love and joy for this day.
wait. there you are. i hear your voice. it must be time to open me.
this is my latest song.
(Gm, F, Eflat)
I had a dream last night.
You were there.
I couldn't hear what you said.
You smiled like an angel.
I was so small
- underneath your light.
...and now, I don't know why you keep on haunting me.
I thought that I let go.
I wish I had the strength to tell you all these things.
I guess you'll never know.
In my heart, you're lying here beside me,
just the same, as I have always been
- in your soul.
How I hope that I'm still there.
I walked across the cold room...
touched your face.
I knew it was a dream.
you threw your arms around me.
I was so full
...inside your heat.
I listened to your heart, I looked into your eyes.
I knew that I belong.
I tapped the rhythm out into your hand, I woke too soon,
and I sat down to write this song.
In my heart, you're lying here beside me.
just the same, as I have always been...
in your soul,
and I hope that I'm still there.
I guess you'll never know.
Subject : if i ever was myself, i wasn’t that night.
Posted Date: : Dec 29, 2008 4:07 PM
how tortured, my soul,
still forcing this role.
"i'm sorry" is all i can say.
someday, not tomorrow,
i'll scream down the sorrow,
nor will it be a good day.
i wished he'd die,
in pain, but i,
never meant like this.
tumult turmoil,
thoughts to recoil.
he must have confessed, but she missed.
i want my mind,
blistered and blind.
i dont want to feel those memories.that pain.
but i do, everyday.
and the words that shed say.
"i hate you for this, you wont see me again."
and tell me, where is emily?
i can't find her, and the picture of her face in my head is fading.
Subject : never before have i ever felt so completely hollow. as this very moment.
Posted Date: : Dec 28, 2008 5:41 PM
how can i say "i'm not her.", when really i'm half at least.
a shadow of the girl i see in the mirror, she really was lovely once.
haven't seen her in years, still the effect is irreversible.
she's supposed to love me, but i don't really think she knows what love is. don't know if she ever did.maybe that's why i keep trying. to forgive, to forget, to love everyone i ever touch, to not regret.
i don't want to be her.
i wonder if i would even recognize her on the street.
spat from her womb and shut out in the cold, for some too-full car coming for to carry me "home".
i can't forgive. i can't forget. and i definitely regret.
but i love. i love everyone in the world. most of all, my mother.
and THAT'S WHAT HURTS THE MOST.
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Subject : Pedal
Posted Date: : Dec 25, 2008 9:51 PM
Plucking apart your last sunflower,
playing "You love me, you love me, not...".
After each petal falls for an hour,
I find the answer is not what I thought,
and even, now,
as i rest my brow
on this frozen, lonely window pane...
my breath will heave,
and I'll believe
- you never meant to cause me pain.
Sighing into your dandelion,
wishing you'd love me, wishing you cared.
For you, I would steal all the stars of Orion.
Why can't you see, we are perfectly paired?
There will come a time,
- no reason, no rhyme,
when all alone, we must find our own way...
while atop our shoulders,
gargantuan boulders...
which won't break or fall, no matter how much they weigh.
Staring beyond this old, dead rose.
Forgetting why it's in the book.
I read across the page you chose,
rememb'ring the lights of my soul that you took.
Thunder rumbles.
The rose just crumbles.
The sky cracks open. My eyes fill with rain.
My heartbeats are cries,
as I realize...
I have defeated your long-standing reign.
Holding the buttercup under my chin,
thinking 'I don't like butter, at all.'
Now that it's over, don't know where to begin.
It's all in past tense, I'm quite over the fall.
As far as your friend?
This is the sad end.
I finally accept where your loyalty lies.
Your dirt's washed away,
and it's okay if I say,
I do not forget, or forgive all your lies.
Subject : my first memory
Posted Date: : Oct 28, 2008 3:25 PM
i awoke to a shrill scream, followed by the sound of running steps down the hallway. when my eyes popped open, i couldn't see anything. it was ink-black in the bedroom that i shared with one of my sisters. which sister, i cannot remember, but im sure she will read this, and then i'll know. i was very small, maybe 3 years old, and i was wearing footed pajamas. i was probably carrying a teddy bear. i always had an affinity for stuffed animals.
as i entered the hall, all of my sisters were already in the doorway of the bathroom, and there was plenty of chaotic noise (crying, shouting, running, curse words, etc...). i remember this like it was yesterday. i think it was the most impactful moment of my life.
when i got to the bathroom, it seemed so sterile, in the uncomfortable way. except for one thing. my mother was halfway sitting, halfway lying on the floor, in my father's arms. there was blood all over her and him, as well as the floor, and as i'm typing this, it seems that i remember the sink being covered in red. my mother. a mother of 4 girls, tried to kill herself that night.
i knew mom was sad, but i was too little for it to really sink in.
"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" my dad said, looking at me, the baby. im sure my sister, sara, ushered me back into my room, and after a few minutes i went back to sleep. the following, i dont remember but are accounts of my sisters'.
an ambulance was called and they took my mother to get stitched up, and to be on "suicide watch", and my sara cleaned up the physical mess that was left in red on the walls.
the next morning, EARLY, as the blue of daylight crept over the town, my father drove me to the hospital to see her. she had complained of the food, so we brought her cap'n crunch cereal. my mother was so selfish, and quite the bitch. i dont remember being in her room for long. she didnt want us there.
we sat in the car and ate cap'n crunch, without her, as the sun rose. i've got to see my dad, soon.
Subject : it’s who i am.
Posted Date: : Oct 19, 2008 5:32 PM
I call this "Dead rabbits"
Happy Sunday, where'd you go?
What happened to the things we used to all know?
We all feel as though the deluge has won.
We're tired and hungry, and the game isn't fun.
Alphabetical, Chronological, and Numerical.
How long has it been since we've seen a miracle?
Take it from me -
from out of my soul.
I'll make you see -
It's unimportant, not GOLD.
You have to stop giving your medals away.
It won't be enough to save you, one day.
Can you say you'll ever be happy again?
Lies aren't true, just because you can grin.
Implacable, Incapable, and Impossible.
and no one we can see here, will be responsible.
Give it to me,
and from out of my spine,
I'll set us all free,
and make it all fine.
Black and white - no flesh colour here.
They drained you all of it, with a mongering fear.
Is it sad to know they're desperate times?
It's really our faults that they've OWNED US through crime.
The final straw is atop my back.
Am I the only one who's not white and black.
This is for you -
not myself.
I must implore you -
for your own health.
The time has come. We all must choose.
If we grab our ankles, we'll always lose.
Open your mouth. Say "FUCK YOU!!" - out loud.
Make sure you are heard - not part of the crowd.
Don't shut up, and DON'T give in.
There's no better time, than today to begin.
From out of the shadows, and into the light.
The truth shall be shouted at the end of the plight.
How will you feel -
in your bed, at the end?
It's about what's real -
in your heart, dear friend.
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Subject : dolente
Posted Date: : Oct 13, 2008 5:36 PM
this is a song that i started to write a couple of years ago.
backstory:
when i was in eighth grade i became very good friends with a girl named candy wright. we lived down the road from each other and did EVERYTHING together. unfortunately, a couple of years later, she decided she hated me (as a child may behave when someone she knows (me) becomes unique to what everyone else sees as suitable for society).
in 2001, i learned that candy had died from drug related issues, and i didnt believe it at first. when, finally this had been confirmed, it impacted me greatly, for some reason.
while sitting alone with my guitar today, i finally finished the song, tears streaking my face. im quite proud of the movement.
i give to you all, the lyrics:
Here's the one I wrote
about a sweet girl
who fell into
the fire.
She never liked me,
or so she swore it.
She was just
a liar.
...and oh, it breaks my heart.
She could have been so smart,
but the jones, it owned her right from the start,
and love never even had a chance to play a part.
Getting high,
and skipping school
were all we thought about.
Finding thrills in
your mother's dresser.
She never did without.
...and oh, how it breaks my heart -
to know you could have been SO SMART.
but it owned your soul from from the start.
and love never even had a chance to play a part.
I remember, too,
the last time I saw you,
standing with your books in your arms.
I didn't know it would be the last time.
I didn't say a word.
Not even "Hello."
Now, I'll never have a sad "Goodbye."
I wondered if you'd ever fill that hole.
...and if you're there at the end,
will you call me your friend?
If i see you, in the blue, it's true.
I'll finally say...
that I've missed you.
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Subject : a poem called "red"
Posted Date: : Sep 10, 2008 7:03 PM
at this point in my life, i'm still a little girl.
trying to make sense, of this cancer of a world.
everyday, the same routine, a battle in my mind.
to rise above these shadows, and not be left behind.
ive tried before to end it - not meant to be, i guess.
i hope that you're not frightened of the things that i confess.
it seems my hearts a big black hole, nothing here can fill it.
however deep an abyss it is, it won't take much to kill it.
wait
for fate
its not too late,
to find out what will satiate.
cold
and sold.
but what you hold,
two hands now filled with sand and gold.
can you ascertain, anything i've said thus far?
hotter than the sun, the brightest star, you are.
if i could have your love, i know i'd make it through
this wretched excuse of a life, if i could just own you
please be mine forever. and that should start today.
promise me you're not like all the others - far away.
and all that i can give you, although it isnt much,
is my laughter and my love, my kisses and my touch.
now
and how
i'll take a bow
because you won't accept the vow.
dead,
he said.
it's in my head.
and all that i can see is red.
Subject : in my head. its only in my head.
Posted Date: : Aug 25, 2008 9:34 AM
yes, i realize that i'm insane. this story is written from a man's point of view.
She told me she worked front desk/reservations at a beach resort down on the island. I told her she'd be hot of she lost the glasses. She laughed and poured me a tall shot of Jose. "I wear them for looks." Pulling the black plastic rims from her ears, she sets them, upside- down on the coffee table. These eyes (so dark they seem black), I feel as though I've seen for a hundred years.
Her hands delicately slice and pass to me a small wedge of lime. "I'll probably need extra salt." I say. She says, "Here, try this."
Now, slowly grazing her clavicle with the wedge, her agenda has become clear. She pours some salt into her hand and dusts it over the juice that's dripping down her balmy, freckled skin. Her lips move, revealing what I've suspected and hoped for all along. "Go ahead. I know you've wanted this ever since you first saw me."
My heart aflutter, I was suddenly and completely unaware of any existence outside of this single display of passion before my eyes.
"I won't bite.". She smiles.
--- pin-drop silence---
"Even if I want you to?". I flirt, shakily. It's been awhile for me.
Her eyes are so still...
-totally fixed on her desires, and so sure of what they are.
I gently lean toward this woman, whom I've just met, and somehow ended up in her suite. There is a small bluish-green glass filled with agave nectar in my left hand, and the lime in my right hand. She burns through my eyes with hers, and pleasantly gasps as my lips meet her heat, and my stomach feels so good, that it almost feels sick
At first, I don't taste salt, and maybe it was her scent, but I swear I've never tasted anything so sweet as the skin upon her shoulder. I want it to last forever, and I think I must have gone to another plane, and forgotten the task at hand, because, before I know it, I'm back on my side of the sofa, gulping down a fuel that is nowhere near as tasty as the girl.
"SUCK THE LIME!!!!!!!!" she yelps. "YOU GOTTA SUCK THE LIME!!!"
I wonder if she noticed the disgusted facade I wear. I do as she advised (of course). The eyes, still steady in my soul, melt away any discomfort I feel, and I know it's time.
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Subject : new song lyrics
Posted Date: : Jul 25, 2008 1:00 PM
this is a piano song.
Living here, in my own way.
Darkness gets closer each day.
I'm living here, but where the hell are you?
Even if I wanted to,
I couldn't sing this song to you.
Your ears are all filled up with spiderwebs...
and I have my pride...
but I'm dying inside.
You call me from your friend's cell phone
- to reassure you're not alone.
Well, I don't care who you spend your nights with.
It's 3 a.m. and I don't buy
your standard "drunken bulshit" line.
Tomorrow, you won't feel it, anymore...
and I have my pride,
but I'm dying inside.
and on this I used a mandolin:
Last time I saw you you were dressed in red.
The image, I cannot erase from my head.
Then, when your eyes met mine I thought that I might melt,
but once you won my love, you put it on the shelf.
You don't realize this pain.
You've taken my heart in vain,
and the lesson, well I guess I'll never learn.
The fire in my soul...
will always burn.
It was the only voice I'd ever want to hear.
You and it continued to fill my eyes with fear.
What you ask of me - why do you sound so real?
You've been hiding deeply what your tongue now reveals.
You don't realize this pain.
You've taken my heart in vain,
and the lesson, well I guess I'll never learn.
The fire in my soul...
will always burn.
i like em.
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Subject : two gallons
Posted Date: : Apr 30, 2008 9:02 AM
Here I am, standing alone, in the middle of an empty lot that was cemented over years ago. There is a chain-link fence surrounding the area that is probably just as old as the cold concrete thats so rough below my soles. I'm wearing a yellow satin dress and a worn ribbon to match in my hair. It's barely drizzling, which has become an annoyance because it's not hot out here. It's not quite cold either, unless, of course, you're wet. I look down and see that there is something on the ground next to me. It's a dirty, rusty, old, two-gallon bucket. It has some sort of stamp on the side - some old words that I can't make out right now. Where did it come from? I'm the only one here, and I don't think anyone else even knows this place exists. Is there anything inside?
For some reason, I can't shake a terrible fear that comes with the thought of finding out whats inside the bucket. I leerily peer into it. It's dark inside there, and there is a strange, sweet smell rising out. This smellis familiar, but I just can't place it. I can't see if there's anything actually inside, so I kneel down to get a closer look. My heart starts racing, and I don't even know why. The rain seems to thicken a bit as my fear grows. It's a tiny little metal container. Why am i so afraid? My eyes must be playing tricks on me, because I still can't see anything, yet the smell is getting stronger. What the hell is that? It's been so long since I've experienced this. After a few seconds of trying to remember where I know the scent from, I decide that maybe I can reach inside and feel whatever it is that's in there. I slowly lower my hand and pull it out a couple of times, shaking off some sort of energy feeling that's now radiating into my arms. I touch something.This startles me, so much that I actually stand and back up, but this feeling, I know. I get back to my knees, and this time without relent, sink my hand into the bucket. It's flesh. It's skin, and it's very warm. It's fingers, actually... little tiny fingers. The hand grabs ahold of my pinky, and I suddenly know what it is. It's the first time I felt true love. The smell that is so sweet - I now know, for certain... this is the smell of a baby. This is he - Edison. I still can't see him, but the feeling that I have in my heart is just the same as that first day when he opened his left eye and looked at me, and I sang to him for at least the first hour of his life while he squeezed my pinky in his fist. I dont want to let go, ever. I want to sit here in the rain right next to this bucket and keep my hand inside for eternity, but the smell goes away and the grasp fades.
I awoke in this empty place of concrete and metal, wet and in a dress I've never seen before - my only company, a silvery, warm, yet dark, and heavy - bucket.
When, at first, I noticed it, I had no idea why it was with me, or why I was even in this cold, stark place. I know, now, what this bucket is.
This is my heart.
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Subject : thought i had read the sky.
Posted Date: : Apr 21, 2008 8:37 AM
maintain grace.
steady your pace.
you may just face
this life alone.
keep your hope.
walk the rope.
try to cope
with all you've known.
and what you shed,
the blood you fed
your waning head -
has played its part
but in your dreams,
your soul redeems,
and mends the seams
of your tattered heart.
i touched your hand,
and tried to stand.
made some demand...
just kiss me please.
and when you did,
i closed my lids,
my darkness hid.
i hit my knees.
the sweetest taste,
this fires embrace
wont be replaced,
by something fake.
i breathed you in,
and wore your skin,
and took your sin
for my own sake.
im uninvited.
its unrequited.
if souls united
id have to change.
ill hold this feeling,
and tell the ceiling
how my heart is reeling.
its all so strange.
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Subject : fuck you, too.
Posted Date: : Apr 20, 2008 8:20 AM
i wish i could be you, for just one day.
i might know, then, why you do the things you do.
i would sit in awe of my own decay,
and analyze my wilted, putrid point of view.
but i'm not you, thank the stars for that.
and you should curse the devil that you are.
because you're still a hateful, selfish little brat.
waging an endless hypocritical war.
i never did a thing, but give you my soul,
i gave you all my heart, and body too.
but you, my dear had an ulterior goal.
you were white, as long as i was blue.
dont you bother calling, and i will do the same.
this goes for the rest of our lives.
im not going to be some tool in your game.
why dont we throw away these knives?
i'll let go of you, if you let go of me.
i think that i can keep it real this time.
or maybe theres a spark that i just cant see,
but even if there is, this is still a crime.
you said "you're stupid when you speak."
i said nothing but i silently shook and cried.
you see, back then, i was far too weak.
you laughed and lied, lied, lied, lied, lied.
not much has changed, except for this:
you dont think im stupid anymore.
you're the one in your puddle of piss
- of a life, but you're still just a whore.
you're so ungrateful, so shallow and base.
you should look in the mirror hard.
and look beyond just the pretty face.
and tear down the white wall of your guard.
heres what you will see, my dear.
an empty black hole that will never be filled.
hate, anger, sadness, fear.
any good that was there is now killed.
Subject : have you seen the little piggies...
Posted Date: : Apr 18, 2008 11:59 PM
stirring up the dirt?
we had a wonderful time this evening. beautiful dinner, excellent wine (even if it was cheap), some guitar playing and singing intoa vaulted ceiling. overall, excellence. we left at around 11:30. smiles on our faces and love in our hearts, as well as a 6 pack of beer in our back seat.
now you gotta keep in mind, we aint in the big city no mo'. we's country fokes, we is. beer in the car isn't looked at fondly around these parts.
we didnt get far from our mid-evening-spot when we began a conversation that went something like this:
him: "man it would suck if we were to get stopped with this beer in the backseat"
me: "yea but. there's no way they're gonna fuck with us between here and home. especially because we have a f****n county tag.
"
him:"yea"
just then, and i mean, maybe .5 seconds afterwards, an oncoming car flashes their lights at us. then the next car did the same. i dont really remember if we exchanged any words at that point, other than "fuck" or "shit". slowly blueness peeked through the trees, and there it was. traffic stop.
quick thinking, emily. what to do.
i lifted up my skirt a little bit and prepared to play.
my other half started to drive a little bit past the fried chicken eatin' wished my mommy cared face.
"WHOA WHOA WHOA!" said mr. "sheriff".
he finagled with the s.u.v. driver's plastic card for a moment before redirecting his retina burning ray of death toward our little white mazda.
"DRIVER'S LICENSE, PLEASE"
cooperatively, the man opens his billfold and hands the tracking device to the chunk of bacon.
the ham backs up to look at the hunk of metal that someone got paid .00007 cents to make.
"ARE YOU A GEORGIA RESIDENT, SIR"
"no, i don't live here." says the baby.
just then some kind of scarlett o'hara/dolly parton/ minnie pearl hunny awakened in me
"it's mah cawr suur" batting my eyes and flexing my calf, i knew he had nowhere to run.
"OK I WAS JUST MAKING SURE YOU KNEW THE LAWS ABOUT CHANGING YOUR PLACE OF RESIDENCE IN THE STATE OF GEORGIA.
"
"woodja liketa see mah lisenze surr??"
"NO THAT'S ALRIGHT, YA'LL HAVE A GOOD NIGHT.
"
the motherfucker didn't even look into our backseat. THANK GOD.
"fuck you you motherfucking coksucking mother raping whoring pig." says the baby.
"
'it's past." says i.
i win.
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Subject : shower routine
Posted Date: : Apr 10, 2008 9:39 AM
so, as usual, im analyzing every move i make throughout the day, and while im in the shower this morning, i realized that i have a very strict order in which i cleanse myself. if, for some reason things get discomposed, my day could quite possibly be thrown off course. then, i started wondering if everyone else does the same thing. so, here i am, asking all of you this question.
by the way, in case anyone wants to know, here is my shower schedule:
1. soak my body thoroughly
2. shampoo my hair, rinse
3. apply conditioner to my hair
4. wash my face, neck, and ears
4.5. (this step is not every day) shave my right leg, left leg, bikini area, and underarms (in that order)
5. wash my body starting with my shoulders and working my way down to the soles of my feet
6. rinse my body
7. rinse my hair
8. turn off shower
9. squeeze out my hair with a dry towel
10. dry my body starting with my face, using the middle part of the towel, and working my way down to my feet, using the ends of the towel to dry any "private" areas
11. wrap hair in a towel
12. put on bathrobe
some may call it obsessive compulsive.
i call it logically methodical.
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Subject : freestyle. dig it.
Posted Date: : Apr 7, 2008 10:06 AM
welcome to the emily show,
where little kids dont know where to go.
where the sun only shines, when the girl is asleep.
where they give her such love, but just not to keep.
welcome to the bog of her heart,
where she'd give it away, if she knew where to start.
where the past lurks, icy, and filled with holes.
where she cries at the sighs of the unwanted souls.
welcome to the ache of her mind,
where she can't understand what it is she won't find.
where she sits, in a corner, balled up on the floor.
where she won't even hear anything, anymore.
welcome to the strength of her hands,
where her fingers get stronger with each note she lands,
where she holds tight to everyone she ever loved,
where the tiniest of arms, are more than enough.
welcome, now to her vigilant voice,
where she screams and she sings that we all have the choice,
where her spirit rings true and there's GOD in the air.
where she shatters the heart of the dark that lies there.
welcome, my kids, to the emily show.
where it seems that she may never reap what shes sown.
where she sends out her love, to each one of you,
where that love is the only thing here that's still true.
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Subject : tagged by rachel
Posted Date: : Apr 2, 2008 10:22 AM
Here’s how you play: Once you’ve been tagged you have to write a blog with 10 weird, random, facts, habits or goals about yourself, at the end choose 10 people to be tagged, list their names and why you tagged them. Don’t forget to leave them a comment saying ’(You’re It!) and to go read your blog. You can not tag the person that tagged you so since you can’t tag me back let me know when you are done so that I can go read YOUR blog answers.
_____________________________________________________________
1. I remember EVERYTHING. if i see it once, its there forever. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not so fun. I think I remember being in the womb.
2. I’m afraid of dying alone. I’m also afraid of getting really old. I used to say that after i hit thirty I would kill myself. It’s not that bad anymore.
3. I’ve never cheated at anything, and it really pisses me off when people do. I also can’t stand starting something without finishing it.
4. My fetish is glasses, especially big thick plastic glasses.
5. I’m a helluva cook, even though I never do it anymore. I’m also really good at wine tasting/smelling.
6. I once wrote an entire book of poems dedicated solely to twiggy ramirez. yep. the old bassist for marilyn manson. Most of them were sexual.
7. I had my right leg closed in a car door by a Jacksonville sheriff when I was 3. It hurt like a bitch. They never did like me, did they?
8. I’ve had almost every piercable part of my body pierced, and most of them i did myself. Hot.
9. I went through a phase when I thought i was a vampire. Still don’t like the daylight. Who’s to say i was wrong?
10. I have a mole inside my belly button, and one on my right ass cheek.
1. Chris, because I don’t think that he ever really thinks about these kind of things.
2. Audra, because if I don’t already know it all, it should be interesting.
3. Heather, because she is me when I was 18.
4. Fee, because i love her.
5. Sam, because I don’t know anything about him, really.
6.Lori, because I know she likes this kind of stuff when she’s bored.
7.Josh, because I miss him.
8. Sara, because it’ll take her mind off of things.
9. Stacie, because i know how much she loves work.
10. Alina, because I haven’t talked to her in forever.
.
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Subject : cabeza
Posted Date: : Apr 1, 2008 10:48 AM
walking atop the eggshells that cover the ground of my labyrinth, i know what it is that im trying to avoid. you see there is a beast here, who hides around every corner. everytime i turn, i have to battle it. sometimes i feel like i should just give up and let it eat me. seems easier than fighting, anymore.
im holding on, with my bad arm, to a mile long withering rope. each moment, as my hand gets sweatier and another thread splits open, my blood thickens, and my tears swell. i cannot see whats below me. the fog is too dense. do i even try to climb, or do i just let go, and hope that there is something soft to break my fall?
what is reality? is it whats in my head? is it living with what ive known? is it something i dont even know about? is everything in the world just a manifestation of my own soul? does anyone else even exist? music exists. i dont wanna play music today. i dont want to go outside. i dont want to stay in my room. i dont know if i even wanna be around anymore.
and if you’re scared to die, you better not be scared to live, so if this is true, what if im not scared to die? should i be scared to live? i want to be far away from all that i know, without telling anyone where im going, just so i can scream and cry. this life has just been traumatic experience after traumatic experience, and they tell me to let go of the past. who the fuck are they anyway?
live in my head for five minutes, and then tell me to let go of the past.
im always tired.
i sigh a lot.
my eyes look like deep holes.
i drink alcohol instead of eating food.
im always on the verge of tears.
it seems like the fuckedupness keeps piling up rather than getting better.
my smiles are fake, and everyone can see through it.
you may find me staring into space intently.
i can write better than usual.
i listen to a lot of sarah mclachlan and dashboard confessional.
i wear sunglasses all the time.
i want to stay up forever and not wake up once i go to sleep.
i feel like a failure and that i havent acheived anything at all in my 26 years.
i think about death a lot.
it seems to rain more often.
my hands and feet are cold.
i want to run away.
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Subject : new song lyrics
Posted Date: : Mar 16, 2008 12:52 PM
Haven’t you put me through enough already...
lying there in that hospital bed?
It takes every ounce of love to keep my hand steady.
Every word you spewed haunts my head.
You tortured me for YEARS,
the main source of all my tears,
the root of all my fears.
Why I scream, and no one hears.
You’ve got her wrapped around your finger,
a lonesome, weary thing.
Every breath she sighs will sting her,
until she cannot even sing...
and if you die, it’s not on my mind.
It’s the choice that I’ve decided.
You took someone I could never find.
There aren’t many in which I’ve confided.
You tortured me for YEARS,
the main source of all my tears,
the root of all my fears.
Why I scream, and no one hears.
Some may feel that I’m quite cold,
my eyes so black and jaded.
YOU chose the way your life would unfold.
You were all the days I hated.
WHY WOULD I GIVE A FUCK
IF YOU’RE IN PAIN?!?!?!?!
YOU DON’T DESERVE TO DIE.
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Subject : off the cuff
Posted Date: : Mar 6, 2008 11:27 AM
Everything has been in vain,
and still I make the mistake again.
I'm wishing in a dried up well.
I'll buy anything you have to sell.
If I sent a letter, you might see...
theres something here - deep in me...
more than anyone could ever give
- to you, as long as you may live.
Make the drop,
Never stop.
Pull the string,
then watch me sing -
a song so long,
it cant be wrong.
Everything is always ending.
Why do we sit here, just pretending.
We all know its not gonna last.
The future will not reign over the past.
How can I dismiss the deluge?
I have nowhere to seek refuge.
Is it my will that makes me cold?
Or is it the lie where my soul was sold?
Take a sip.
Keep your grip.
Reality,
you may not see,
but realize...
its in my eyes.
Do you care at all for my heatless heart?
I hope not, for you. If you're really smart...
You'll run forever, and not look back.
All that you need, I probably lack.
You dont deserve the flaws of my head,
my watery eyes, or the puddles I've bled,
and somewhere pure, I'll always stay.
In case you've something you need to say.
Read the note.
Jump the boat.
Take my skin.
Breathe me in.
Apologies,
for my disease.
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Subject : short story (part 1)
Posted Date: : Feb 8, 2008 11:21 AM
Teddy flicks his wet cigarette into the oncoming cars as he waltzes down the gum-covered sidewalk of Young Street. It's drizzling pretty hard now, and he thinks that at any moment it could turn to snow. He raises his shoulders a bit to tuck his ears into the elvis-style collar of his black wool trenchcoat. His grandfathers favorite hat is ontop of his head, one that makes him look like some sort of zoot suit from the 40s. He cant feel his nose anymore, but he keeps sniffling a load of snot up his left nostril and he gags at the salty brine every time.
To see Ted from afar, one would think, 'He's got somewhere to go, and he knows where hes going'. He's wearing nice shoes... Shiny shoes, and a nice thick scarf that matches his coat quite nicely.
He seems to be brushing through the street crowd briskly. Maybe he's late for something. A date? Something important, for sure.
With his eyes on the ground, he finally stops at the corner of 16th ave. He presses the button for the crosswalk and stares at the bright red neon hand telling him, "you can go no further.". He looks in the opposite direction at the white man-figure on the other crosswalk sign. It turns to the red hand and starts blinking. 1, 2, 3...Ten times it blinks, and he knows he can cross young momentarily. Sure enough, the little white man pops up on the lefthand side of the sign, and Teddy strides across the street through headlight beams that show the depth of each raindrop that swirls around him.
Stepping onto the sidewalk of 16th, he looks up quickly as he passes a moviehouse, to notice the marquis, and a name that stands out like the memory of his mother's hands...
Janie Reid.
'Janie Reid', he thinks to himself, curiously. 'Do I know her... eh, probably just sounds like some girl I went to school with.'. The thought drifts out, as he watches a stream of yellow jut out onto the sidewalk. A good looking, smiley couple walk out of the door, laughing, and clenching tight to each other. They quiet down when they get close to him, only to resume their volume as soon as they walk past Theodore.
The smell of cigarettes, liquor, and perfume lingers into the street as he grabs the brass handle of the heavy oak door and pulls it open. He steps inside to be greeted by a few harps. "HEY...TEDDEE...WHERE YOU BEEN HIDIN?!?... LONG TIME NO SEE MAN...etc..."
The air in Harry's is thick tonight, as he sits down at the furthest corner seat at the bar. "Oh you know." is his only response. The other patrons know Ted and can tell he seems somber, but they won't pry. God only know what he went through over there.
"You know what I like, Harry.", he motions to the clean-cut, late-middle aged irishman. Harry looks just like he did before. Greasy slicked back silvering hair, small round glasses that sat low on his nose, that stuck out like a branch from his worry-wrinkled face - a longsleeved, white, collared shirt, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow - the black vest and black cotton pants - a towel always at hand. He picks up a rocks glass and and a scoop-full. he tips up the bottle of jack and fills the glass. "No straw." says Ted. The red eyed bartender makes his way to the end of the bar, where Theodore Mason has taken off his coat and scarf and laid it over the back of the high chair. He places Joe's hat on the bar next to him and sits, in a slump, thawing out.
"Sure is cold tonight," Harry says. "they say it might snow."
"And what if it does?" teddy replies. "What do THEY know anyway?"
He seems bitter, and the tender leaves him to himself. The kid taps his pack of Marlboro's onto the bar and tosses a cigarette into his mouth. he pulls out a bright, shiny lighter with his initials engraved on it and puffs away. He has a lot to think about, now that he's home. He looks at his hand, the skin scarred from some sort of burn. ' I wonder if Jim ever got out of that place.' he thinks, and then, as an unexpected interjection, he remembers the last time he saw his pal, Jimmy. Everything was so chaotic that night, that he can barely remember anything, but what he does remember is as vivid as a Californian sky. Loud crashes - fire - gunblasts - the vibration of his own gun in his trembling hands - the heat, the godless heat of that fucking desert. He downs his bourbon and taps his glass at harry.
The boy watches the bartender for seemingly a thousand years and as his drink gets closer to him, something sparkly catches his eye. It's an earring.
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Subject : something intriguing about people who write in all capital letters
Posted Date: : Feb 6, 2008 3:35 PM
ok so, here are a few old writings of mine. i was pretty young, and stuck, but these works are really good.
theyre acutally in chronological order, although the exact dates are unknown.
no title
Instead of crying about it, you should write a song.
Play your guitar all night long.
Don't think about tomorrow's tears.
Don't waste the magick of swift youth years.
She loves you and she feels the same,
so why does she fucking play this game?
You may not think you know, but dear,
it's just confusion, love, and fear.
You think that nothing will ever make sense,
but you could never deny something this immense.
So when you stare at the wall,
and it seems so small,
just like everything that you tried to do.
Remember the distance
of two lovers' existence,
is the only thing that keeps her from you.
Instead of lying about it, you should make her see,
that soon enough her heart will be -
mended together by a warm white light...
the day that you come and make her life alright.
Hold her close. You can't let go.
You stare so hard, you can see her grow.
Tell her what's true, it's all that you have.
Trust me, she won't turn away and laugh.
She'd grab your side, and never leave.
As always, your love is all she'll believe.
So when you lie stiff at night,
tears so thick you've lost your sight,
with visions of love, that your life won't forget.
Remember she's staring,
thinking you're not caring,
and wishing you'd throw away things you regret.
You Don't Listen
I have so much to tell you.
After all these years I still have so much to say.
I am dumbfounded in your head. You won't hear my words.
I've never lied about my heart-feelings, only tried to follow what they told me to be.
I lost my dignity, lost my pride,
lost my faith in love, denied.
You fed my heart to a bright red dragon, and still, my love has not been shattered.
If i should lose my limbs, and be vaccuumed of my blood...
If my brain is swallowed, or my eyes can't see.
If I never hold your hand...
I will wail aloud from the depths of my death...
I love you.
...again
Here I am, once again, only lonely in my sheets. I've turned on a tune that I only wish you'd dedicate to me. I sing it loud and without boundaries for you.
"...I'd do anything for you - I'd give you the world...".
I'm feeling, today, like I've been poisoned.
My stomach is alive and growing temperamental.
I can hardly hear and my face is closed off.
I stand under a magnanimous boulder, a fringed and ragged rope, just out of reach, and you hold the other end. The closer i get to having a grip, the further you drift into the atmosphere. The rope dangles, teasily, over me like the gong of a bell. I finally hold on and it wraps my wrist like a snake unto a rat.
I am lifted higher and higher. Your body gets closer but your head is shrouded by the white of the sun. I can almost see your face when, suddenly, I notice (and it seems as if we're floating in slow-motion) that your arm spans aside and you let go of me.
I look down to see nothing but air, and your end of the rope...
falling so free...
then as I drop, i only look up for an instant, to see you -
laughing.
My Love
So...
let me ask you, if I ever really need you, does your offer still stand?
You said you'd always be there.
It seems that you just don't care.
I don't know why I allow you to affect my psychological well-being.
I can't just wash my heart, although it has already been wrung out.
How do you dispose of love?
Throw it in a trash compactor and toss it into a burn pile.
Roast your marshmallows over it and watch it transform above the trees into clouds and stars.
Years from now, it might fall back to Earth, and you will collapse from its heat. This, you simply cannot kill.
something untitled
Full of envy,
full of lies.
Full of forced-into goodbyes.
I am weary.
I am tired,
and just trying to be inspired.
You are there,
lost - confused,
feeling battered, feeling used.
I am here,
just the same.
The real and true loser in this game.
He is happy.
He has me,
and everything we're supposed to be.
Why am i weak
in nerve and in heart?
I feel like a ship, that's split in two parts.
So much freedom,
caged inside right now.
Wanderers and morbid angels fill up my bough.
I love you here.
You need me there,
but I fear my sail's torn, with no valid repair.
Why?
Opening my eyes hurts too much anymore. For it is awakening that reminds me you hate my existence...
and why? That's the only question that ever comes to mind when it comes to you. Why what?
Why did i CARE? Why did i forgive you? Why did i live for you? Why should I die for you? Why should I fucking give a shit? Why did you say it? Why was it goodbye? Why'd you break my heart? Why'd I fall face-first into SHIT?
You could never answer me.
This question is one for all the ages.
Awake to your day, and pray and play away.
You'll never get over me, I'm too high,
and then you'll ask one question...
Why?
Subject : freestyle poem and a clear head.
Posted Date: : Feb 6, 2008 11:48 AM
for the first time, in a long time.
im finally ready to fall.
so without crime, in a short rhyme,
i'll simply say nothing at all.
you see i try, to not cry,
and usually thats not a feat.
but when i - said goodbye.
my little heart didnt take its next beat.
and now here, i am, dear.
a lonely puddle of rain.
and i fear, maybe we're
just singing the same song, again.
it seems right, the good fight,
but something is missing, still.
so take flight, at midnight,
and maybe someday i will...
be so cool, and no fool,
and not wear my heart on my sleeve.
and this rule, is my tool,
although i just do not believe...
what you said, that im dead.
that you have no thoughts of me, now.
through my head, i do dread,
that this is the truth, somehow.
in my eyes, i will rise,
and take what i deserve.
and your lies, and loud cries,
wont be on the menu i serve.
now take heed, go with speed.
leave me to lie in my box.
i only need, to just bleed.
and keep all my chains and my locks.
if i could get out, i would. this shadow above and around me, it wont release me.
let me go.