Log in

No account? Create an account
If she screams youll turn [entries|friends|calendar]

[ website | CLICK ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[22 Jan 2005|03:36am]
you know when you look back on things that you have done (or written) and just cringe?

yeah. i wanna delete this journal.
post comment

It’s a pledge. It’s a memoir. Its deception. Its taking it to far. [12 Oct 2004|10:08pm]
Third Part.

Billy cries away alcohol and pukes up vicodin.
He's really pissed that he can’t even kill himself correctly

Billy entitles letters: "To whom will throw this away."
He watches gray muted static from night to day.

Billy tried cocaine again and it made the pain stop.
He needed more no matter how much blood he coughed up.

Billy lost his job, Billy lost his home.
He had lost his only friend, now Billy's all alone.

Billy was taken by ambulance to a tiny hospital.
He wasted there with clouds and wallowed in cheap Tylenol.

Billy streamed tears when they stuck him with IV needles
And threw up more forcibly with help from the medicines.
He stopped entitling his letters, wrist snapping wrote: "The End."

Billy made a pledge to turn his life around.
In a dramatic rush, Billy pulled away from his tubes
Ran from his room
To use the phone cord for its job in the booth
But no sooner did the lines go flat
Was his body found.
And Billy learned to kill himself just like he had planned.
post comment

It’s a life. its a decision. It’s self righteous. It’s self pity. [12 Oct 2004|09:57pm]

Billy lived modestly in a pallid blue house
Billy was plagued by vex and by doubt
Sat every day in front of the poignant box with a pout.
Billy was said to be unhappy.
Billy one day decided to play with Maggie.

Most girls wear tiny pink barrettes
Maggie bleached her hair
Most girls don’t like cigarettes
Maggie inhaled them like they were air
She held paper bags filled of white powder
And always demanded that the punk rock be louder

Maggie made Billie do unthinkable things
From raping the maids to stealing mommy’s rings.
They wore the same sneakers
They sold the same drugs
Beat each other senseless
And after awhile
Had to change their home addresses

Billy would go to the old factory with Maggie
Where she would play with other boys. It seemed to make her happy.
Billy would wait while she filled up the bag.
All the while scraping his arms, as to not be sad.
They kissed not on the mouth, but the nose
And only had sex if they were both clothed.

One day. Tuesday to be exact.
Billy unexpectedly was forced to face a mishap
Mom died. And Maggie went away.
“He didn’t even cry” is what people say.

By the time he turned fourteen
He was addicted to codeine
He sat on the dock down by the old factory
It just wasn’t the same without his best friend.

But then she appeared there, out by the Ocean
Billy was punched by her hands then
Billy recognized he couldn’t swim.
Billy almost drown.
In court Maggie simply said he fell in.
3 comments|post comment

It’s a quote. it’s a civilization. Its here. Its someplace you wished you were in. [12 Oct 2004|09:00pm]

Billy noticed that.
people like to talk loud to get your attention.
He said that their addicted to pills,
and addicted to emotions.
“They lie for themselves
As they do it, they shout.
Because, well then,
You notice them.”

Billy didn’t remark anymore when,
He turned ten.
“Who cares if they fib
Or talk loud?
Are moral or sin?
Murder or cheat,
Loose or win.”
“Anything significant
Is stupid in this world.”

Billy became cold
As his youth got old
Billy did drugs
Just as he was told.

Billy alleged that he was still deep
“I read lots of books and at night I don’t sleep!
My house smells like smoke
I listen to drab music and snort coke!
Use e-bay instead and barely eat.
This makes me profound
Compared to any one else in my town!”
post comment

safe pigment [02 Oct 2004|04:00pm]

Chattering teeth
The dentist would not approve,
He pinned her down
When she started to move,
The bed became her rival
Blood rushed just to spite her,
Any noise was hushed,
Any struggling, was impaired like disease, and subdued.

"why didnt you scream?" She did. She tried.

He said he would take her away where its safe.
And of course it, was a lie.

If someone adored her
They stopped when they heard
Breathing became work
Existing burned and it hurt.

The first occasion it was Clorox and cold syrup
And all she got was a high
Sputtering into a phone she called the only one she knew
She laughed, no doubt laughing at you

She disappeared for an hour,
Until the boulevard lit up.
Then brought her dollars,
To the store on the corner,
It was Revlon peroxide
2 bottles, 2 twenties.
She shook uneasily coming down the aisle.
The cashier beamed and pulsated with a positive smile

If someone adored her
They stopped when they heard.
Breathing became work,
Existing burned and it hurt.

Bent over a sink,
Dripping with bleach.
Opening the second container
Long hair, dyed and disfigured

Swigging the tint,
Mouth up turned with a squint.
The smell overpowered her
Pausing with regret, she,
Made her way to the computer

It was a dazzling bright.
Teasing her to type,
She sat down a minute, a century, instigated to write.
She adorned her makeup, took a picture
Lit a match, drug it on, took a smoke,
With any luck the tar would mix with the henna chemical in her throat.

She smirked at her reflection
Her bite had turned russet.
Licking her teeth, tanned and smooth,
The colorant changed everything. The dentist she thought, would not approve.

For those with safe pigment, its hard to deny.

He said he would take her away where its safe.
And of course it, is a lie.
2 comments|post comment

reddish purple frosting. [05 Jun 2004|06:45pm]
If she could she would ask where her birthday candles are
Why her dad is dead, what kind of mom is a film star?
Do they lie to protect her? did they lie to smite, to scare?
Did they lie and lie to make it easier to sell her?
A bullet is a bullet no matter how you say it.
A child without a life is better these days.
5 5 5 empty plates to her dismay.

Why cant she ask?
Are the stitches to tight?
The busy signals to loud, is it to cold in the night?
Story books with big bad wolves
Hard to touch memories of unadulterated proof
Kisses on foreheads. Blushes of stubborn red.
Do you need me now, to tuck you into bed?
5 5 5 forks sadly left untouched.

Its sadistic
Is it the TVs fault?
Do we blind ourselves
Or do we play it out?
5 questions to ask
5 questions left passed
And one more problem
For the little girl
How do you blow out 5 unlit candles?
You advertise deception.
Make up a few scandals.
Grow up glaring
And then pull at the barrel
3 comments|post comment

content candy razors [06 May 2004|08:29pm]
i wanna inject you.

you can course through my veins.
and never ever leave.
turn blue and warm.
then create a disease.
weaken my body.
and my mass replace.
at least ill have you.
and that bruise of your face:

imprinted on my arm,
beside the disfigurement of my wrist;

oh content candy razors that conveniently fit to my fist.
left from that party of deluders who childishly wish.
they cosset deception. heart stoppers, and pills.
obituary for my friends,
who fumble like the end of the world was on their heels

loosing substance,
yet ceaselessly gaining appeals.

addiction consumed by your desiccated jaw
faintly trace a translucent withdraw
we run away. a block at a time.

thirsty but just simply known as refined.
i wanna inject you.

keep you as mine.
11 comments|post comment

Heed, Mouth, Sight, attack their plight [04 Mar 2004|08:55pm]
  • Sing, sing, did the news.
    the bomb hit at a quarter past noon.
    .she heard the television say.

Harmony of an airplane
No longer piercing can reach
You eavesdropped the killer, ears life leak

Blast blast
Radiation and adjoined laws lost
Fast fast
Drop to the floor and cover your fabrication
What a deafening dream

  • Pray, pray did the affluent
    The blast killed millions of children
    .he never again heard his mother breathe.

Fervor, blaring noise
Plays of aged cinema whores
You opened a pale throat, lost your voice.

Blast Blast
Were far less striking from the inside
Fast Fast
Kiss goodbye, remorseful woes let them slide

  • Blind, blind are we
    Blood and radiation in our eyes
    .They were sightless from numerous toxins.

Heat, visible in the skies
The black of the clouds dawn complementary
You gaze no more, for your eyes have burned

Blast blast
Recurring imaginings of ailing minds and massacres
Thank the wind  you cannot hear that.
Thank  that tounge your unable to taste.
Thank the  ground you cannot see it.
Oh, hope you dead.
Fast. Fast.

11 comments|post comment

lips on a rapture of ripping [05 Feb 2004|06:23pm]
your lips. cherry. haunting. bruised...your lips:
kiss my broken finger tips
I have become a thief praying on your victim touch
I couldn’t save your distress. Because your forging that sorrow so much.
Plastering my ruby mouth into a smile
So you wont notice a flourishing hate
Were noticing that they would hate to waste a beautiful girl
They hide her maiming and swathe it with lifeless tenuous hair
Covering her heart along with her damage
For its not a heart, its directly a dull pulsation
Parade the ailing clatter of your bone hitting my veins
Parade the though of pitiful un-regarded litter
Suppress manners whilst I compose my tongue-tied pains
Collection of dust
Because that’s what I am to your fist, as policy bawls: hit her. hit her.
Someone prevent my gashes from scaring
Someone hand me a 911 essential for calling
Cruelty in my stare
Is delight in yours.
Kiss my broken finger tips.
As I’m begging you to stop
.Stop slashing me to rips.
4 comments|post comment

when i awake.i promise.this.you.you will be real. [04 Feb 2004|07:21pm]

I kissed a miserable boy who tastes of cigarettes
old records in the background
and scars across his wrists
a lip so innocent pierced
a mind so jaded confused and lost
I shuddered at his touch

he said as he held up my un-tainted face
pulled at my skirt
I faltered, felt my legs begin to shake.
so this is what its like to be weak
I wish I was your first.…heartache
I wish I was the reason
you try to die in dreams
write a song about me
surprise me
touch my arms
kiss me when I’m crying.

I wanted to break you then
Make you feel what I feel when im scared at night
sick to my stomach because I cant pretend
Its nice to imagine what its like to be in your arms
ill never fill that space
Its so taken up by imitation anxiety, fragile bodies and
Memories you try to hard to erase.

corruption loves that you cynically smirk
and randomly appear
wish that you could only suffer
and realize im here
….Your made pathetic by that single falling tear

maybe you could look past the thought that you like me for the wrong reason
the way I feel right here
on this wreck of sex is more disastrous then your last poison
that time it took you
ten hours
to go back.
and realize. I was gone.
Our illusion of saying I love you is so utterly hopeless,
Made bitter by purity
Disgusting, TORN.

21 comments|post comment

1 in brutaly trusting [02 Feb 2004|05:10pm]
cosmetics makes me sick.
this is my happy trusting industerial sorrow
a phony innocence of something transparent
a bulimic disaster i have often come to borrow
My sympathy throbs, i can tell freely breathing will take awile.

classic pinup so raised to be disasterous.
a trashy dream of a clasic sin.
do i glitter when you touch? drumt to punch me...
ill defile this place you tend to breathe as a home

bleak white light of the bathroom hall.
impaling pregnant words i cant comprehend.
im missing your compulsive thoughts
agravated my soul to that last extent
blurring into streaks-
burlesque made to dystroy the world with a bandage made of foam
My sympathy throbs, i can tell freely breathing will take awile.
9 comments|post comment

burnt at the edges. lost at the seems. [01 Feb 2004|08:20pm]
Im so happy i just might choke.
Your the only one who makes me feel like this
Im fine with that.
Im scared, i shouldnt feel this good.

After you-
Ill lie in bloody sheets.
cutting closer to the heart, cutting across, cutting deep.
And its all because. im. so. damn. cliche.

iv become idealistic
touching lips to thumbs
im drowing in dreams
when really i have no one.

you smashed the shadow over my head
sick thoughts that left the bed unmade
this is you undone
another blanket to warp around your lifeless body
the glass broken cut more than the skin on my cheek

because fucking puirty was spared
you thought, that this, was over.
its only becoming. get used to my voices stammer.

almost like one bad wreck
a whole day dedicated to the breaking of forget.
everyday is a new disaster
on the bridge of shattering shadows faster

are you happy now?
that you'v. gone. and dismantled my head.
if i wasnt pretty then you would cease to be dead.
sex is dot on your watch.

choke me with your touch, then kiss my dead lips and smile.
so this is what love does.
im glad that your truely happy with your thoughts.
blatantly confused and lost.

love prevails over all
you struck gold,
and all i got was lost
12 comments|post comment

She Prefers Her Anorexia Refined [28 Jan 2004|06:46pm]
What shame thrives.
Promoting beauty limp, cheating, lies
lift chin, and, realize
This is her existence.
A vivacity she is to sure isn’t close to being worth it.
Decorations of counterfeit confections
Pictures of black of white untarnished dainties tacked onto her ceiling
She has been granted plush.
A rich desire of burning eyes and sore raw wrists.
Now I am amused that you believe she must be immune to this.
Listen now
That girls skeletal deprived arms could snap under the weight of a plum
And her skin is probably defiled from the sickly amount of trouncing sun
Never confuse perfection and infirmity, they are one in the same
The beauty queen, the dancer and the beaten repulsive creature all crave her fame
Precision is homicide
To the girl with her heart worn inside-out.
Yet her wilting is power
And her glossy photos are red because of vibrating life’s cherry shower
When you look like her
Flimsy body.
Hip bones carved .
And a heart shaped face.
That your distinctive boy pretended not to notice
But you in fact saw the skinny figure drawn in his notebook
Scream loud, come out with it.
You never will be able to do that, and you know that,
You will never be perfect
You will be human.
Like every one else.
Familly screaming, ever drifting joy and constant wooing him.
Consisting of time, secret skin and despised deceit.
A pill, will empty her out.
A bit of a low slung skirt will cut down the curves for a day.
A breakage of a bone is only natural she tends to shout.
A claim that skinny is the way to die, and the only way.
I hope heavens open to those who threw themselves from a seventh story building
When the mirror kept her shape up.
I hope hell warms the bones where the lack of heat dawned.
When the delicacy of your morals came to only fill half of your undernourished cup.
What is it like to die unhappy, young and pretty?
10 comments|post comment

Dear pathetic mind. Truly Yours, Your greatest friend. [25 Jan 2004|04:01pm]
Welcome home.
To the tedious suicide letters painting ballet recitals on my walls
Paint dripping off of windows spatters onto an untouched phone
Dainty dancers draped along wounded meager halls
Could you blame anyone for detesting that house?
Assembled neatly draped with cobwebs, painfully tranquil in an overpriced blouse.
The angry rich girl makes the worst of pretenders.
Waiting next to the phone,
A widow called, but the little girl moved not to satisfy the call.
Distancing her corpse, yet begging for the bleeding receiver to ring.
Singling that she took her life while her favorite story bands began to sing

"The lewd man next door just wouldn’t stop mistreating.
The beautiful girls just kept on taunting.
The blood refused to put an end to the punches placed bruising with ease.
The vainglorious whore who wasn’t, when said she would be there for me."

One day that lavish child, she snapped.
Sullen girl gashed her tiny tin heart, until it damaged

Welcome home.
Gradually walk down a staircase. Holding framed memories.
Nothing is wrong.
Or so it seems.
Scrawled on the dwellings floors read a notice:

Dear pathetic mind.
I don’t have time.
To write a page.
I worry you wont burn me and
Soon ill smother in the dirt of my grave.
Tell sister I love her. She’s a misery.
Tell popular girl I adore her. She will fail eventually.
Tell the neighbor who corrupted me. My body he can no longer touch.
Tell my best friend she owns my hatred. She always did look in that mirror to much.
Bluntly Im aiming to inform you, you did this.
You pulled the trigger
You ripped me from bliss.
Pulled me backwards into an indulgent mind.
Tisk tisk tisk.
That suddenly I “the sullen girl” could be removed from the world so quick.
I wish I could fake that smile a day longer.
Just to make you happy.
Just to ease the hunger.
The pain.
Took over
Im sorry, I discovered…
That hurt could be simply taken away
By a note, a hand pressed to the body of the bullet, and blood gone astray.
Im sorry, I realized….
That the bottle of tiny relief marked X
Was glad for me to pour my contents of despair into it.
As it emptied sweet murder into my chest.
Im sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry:
Life declares death.

Truly Yours, Your greatest friend.

The Suicide Note. Wealthy Irony’s End.

Welcome home.
Gradually walk down a staircase. Holding framed memories.
Nothing is wrong.
Or so it seems.
Scrawled on the dwellings floors read a notice:

Everything raced by so fast, so fast my mommy couldn’t think.
For there lay her failure soaked in endings.
The suicide note. Suspended in Ink
25 comments|post comment

Inhaling In An Anxious Breathe [24 Jan 2004|03:57pm]
I cannot breathe, my lungs caved at the thought of giving in.
I cannot hear, if I did the only sound would be the resonance of tears.
I cannot stir, the situation is enough for me to paralyze indeed.
I cannot love, it would be to severe for my heart to open up, breaking again.
I cannot touch, I cannot move. I cannot mend a single thing.
I loathe these shivering lips.
I despise, the lies, I create to win you over.
I hate the hands I was born with. They wont move.
They cannot speak.
They refuse to do a single captivating thing.
My charms washed away from the second I shuddered through your door.
This is the friction of simplicity loosing all art.
The way I look upwards and crave the song erased, the story to begin again from the start.
I cannot run for my ankles are to feeble
I cannot look, I wouldn’t be able to bare visions- divine- masquerades made of you.
I cannot sing because my throat has rendered un-able
I cannot feel for I tore my skin when I crawled from it
I cannot talk, I cannot move. I cannot mend a single thing.
Standing stalwart in stilettos. Amused at your idiocy
Yet my shadow is surrounded by my vacancy and thoughtlessness.
That ticket strung on my mirror remind me of a place.
I dread that room I dread that room.
Revulsion of my body emits revulsion of my face.
It does not help me.
I still cannot breathe.
Inhaling in an anxious death.
Hand me a knife to save my wrists and I’m set.
4 comments|post comment

.A sliver of images goldeN. [20 Jan 2004|06:51pm]
WARNING: images in mirror head are farther faker than they may appear.

Pretty boy, why do you waste your time with pretty girls?
make it count.
replied hoarsley...
Pretty girl your good with words.
drown out your over contemplated thoughts.

follow echos that have no voice to begin with
lead into the bedroom a girl with no choice
trace back your guesses
find your diginty hiden in blinking answering machine lights

.sell yourself in a magazine.
running, fall and scrape your knee.
fuck the consequences apparently.
well well isnt hope abannoned?
lust lust lust
sex among sex among sex
we hold ourselves close to the walls
bare backs, chisled hipbones and broken dolls

kiss the girls with lollipop wishes,
kiss them behind the bleachers, than leave them.
sour candies stuck in sugary hair
jaded bruised beauty height five inch three
latee night haight sections scrawled on dreams
lucy lush cry me a tear

they wear stunning foam dresses
as you tear at their promises
a song for the air that sails past the window
past the mirror marked
WARNING images are farther than they may appear
WARNING dont trust those choosey choosey pretty girls
WARNING these pictures are fake, designed with ups that make.

pretty girl, why do you waste your time selling your pretty self?
make it count
replied hoarsley...

let her go.
he'll listen to sooting records
she'll deck herself in soothing make-up
hush hush
she has no choice now
hush hush
he will never know how

hush hush
pretty's just an emotion
16 comments|post comment

dont approve of yellow envy calling [11 Jan 2004|04:03pm]
title or description

Tie me up in the ashes from wich you burnt my sober skin.
than kiss kiss kiss kiss the night that made you what you are.
warp it with you lips untill it drifts bloddy into a dream.
hear me cry while i stare at the sun through the door
shrieking because wasted beauty surrounds me
fearing because this feels gorgeous
killing myself with elegance bitter all over again
you turn away when i scream
and im yet begging:
make me pretty,

I dont approve of your yellow envy calling
sitting up at night and with rapture, coughing.
lace around your thighs shows exactly what you wish for
laying on a repeate of cotton and satin banished to the floor.
make me. colour me.
hold on tight and promise,
that you'll show me a mirror pretty
and stop my pleading.
14 comments|post comment

Number fatality wrong. Grow up eternally young. [08 Jan 2004|06:57pm]
For Paris and Gretchen and my mindly like mind... i dont know why,or how.

Mommy said we should hold on tight,
To the things that make us smile,
And lose the fear of things that go bump in the night.
That was then,
now, I’m more than I child.
Now I watch re-runs
of friends leaking red serum

Daddy said to grow up strong
But I cant when my legs sit on heels ten inches long.
I use everything in this imitation body to impress them,
I’m perfections greatest friend
Yet no one would spare a whisper
if that was all the air I had to respire on
once and again i wished: let someone heed to me,
i looked in a dictionary saturday just to make sure there was a meaning to the word"free".

were one in the same.
You and I…
dig through the joy, and there lies all of it,
desperation begging and agony inspired pain.
Walking closer to you,
“don’t dry your tears honey, you look pretty when your sad,
your depression, learning your lesson… its almost endearing”

she has a dark place too
we all do
she just dosnt wear it like clothes,
she sit in corners late in the darkness and wails
dont we all dawn deeply stunned secrets somehow?
everyone cries at night and everyone yells at the world

We listen to our music
that song that lets us breathe.
now i go cry, because breathing is so surreal to me

Sallow pallid vivid dresses binded around my wounds
your Intriguing spelendor at its best.
And rebel beauty horror, I will grow up to be soon.
18 comments|post comment

vulnerable heat [07 Jan 2004|04:55pm]
Slit my aches. So I wont long for your touch.


when my mouth burns
and turns raw with desire
and i scream, i scream
my eyes blue, become swathed in amber streaming fire
is when i breathe the best:
bawling close to you, on your chest

Rendering conscious desires
Envelop, bandage on all I have lost
I can do that,infact its all I have ever been taught

.it hurts.
this bruise, cut, sorrow, pity, runs so deep.
clean cut to the bone, down through chalky skin
Stirring my ailment
Surfacing failure.
Showing that i truly am,

as miserable as them
laugh at me
tell me im not woth anything
i want apprehension
give in alaready
i need lost attention

permit me to hold up ruined glass,
your reflection is haunting, it shows you as
Overpowering demise
that is your essence
after you had spoiled, i stumbled apon your forceful core.


Slit my throat. So I won't taste you anymore.
22 comments|post comment

drumt to lost. [05 Jan 2004|07:04pm]
i bare my soul
and you bare your mind
pretending to care
only it’s a forgotten name in that head,
just to pass endless time

cant take it more....
instead i snap pictures while you slam doors

do me a favor
stay out of my life!
keep it in your heart-
that thick black cherry blood
dead prom queens litter the hallways
obsessive eyes
starring at nothing but stars
my idol is a girl in white.
save your sorry
good has already become so bad
and it feels more than evil
it makes my blood pump so fast.

Shutting doors like you shut out love
hard, swift with no time
to find if its really that tuff
to bind yourself to someone else.
Finding something new,
Something you can touch,
and not despise.
Not be utterly petrified
Of crowning you a prince
Feeling light, feeling fortunate.
A sentiment, a sentiment like this.

Can’t you Stop leaving me?
are you so afraid to hold me the same way
And pretend its not forged
Your counterfeit malevolence
Surely more leaving me, in fair time, will come of this.
Alone again,
Sanity, left me long ago, left me without a friend.

i bare my soul
and you bare your back
as you turn to leave
running away, again?

imagine that.
8 comments|post comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]