I woke up this morning with a bad taste in my mouth and a hard feeling in my chest.
all the happy things a write about you are nothing more than a delusion. nothing I feel or want is real, and as I write them, why don't I catch it? I don't know, I don't know... I'm too caught up in the idealist bullshit that I used to believe in unquestionably. it always takes the dreams to remind you what is real.
I feel like drowning myself in the ocean.
"he told me that he had never came when a girl went down on him-I thought to myself... I could be that girl."
"I was just doing him a favor."
your tendencies are showing
and my memories are rushing.
he'll fill your mouth with cum
and your mind will choke on lies.
along with your twisted lines,
plastic eyes,
and absent life.
how could you die?
you drowned with your beauty
in the bottom of that broken bottle.
"I love you, and I am empty"
yeah, well, at least its half true.
-2 October 2009
awkward dream
ahahahahahahahaha.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
laugh.
fucking laugh, you piece of shit.
the blade is in.
will you twist it,baby? I wanna feel the edge
singe my organs.
it feels good. makes me come.
makes me feel.
it makes me feel.
repetition, repetition; we'll keep turning the wheel.
its the best this world's got to offer.
its the best we have to offer.
so play your drums and sew your lips
the suture wont heal the wounds from whims.
-12 January 2010
you shook.
"you talk a good one, but don't want it."
-mobb deep. -21 january 2010
aerial archaeology.
vertical highway along a coked up sidewalk.
chalk-chalk-chalk lined lips, don't talk to me.
watch the keys fall as my heels touch down.
the distance is there, the feelings all frown.
believe me yet? you'll trip on lies
til you take your head out'the skies-just watch the cracks.
watch the cracks leading up to our end.
you keep saying there's much to defend.
how is it? that you live it? this lie that we've tamed?
-for you've framed me in this perfect picture to snippet.
-18 April 2010
karma collisions.
everybody says I'm better.
maybe they're right-in more ways then they ever meant.
-28 April 2010
randomstuffIwritefromstaringatthegroundtoolong.
dried photosynthesized souls of a perplexed youth.
kill my dreams, fears, and fooled files of reciepts.
dandelions pressed between teeth-eyes filled from beauty underneath.
ants cross canyons, their path predetermined from forces unknown.
hate to say, but I told you so.
hate to say it, but I told you so.
trapped suns from gaze to glance, shadows fall and blend.
this rule will never bend-nor break.
a love which you can fake? hah.
we are no fools.
we are no fools.
-20 May 2010
Paguroidea.
A Million Little lies-no longer on paper, but in a calcareous complexion.
"I stare at her, let my smile fade it won't fade inside. I have never felt so safe or calm. This hard, damaged, drug-Addicted Baddass Girl sitting in front of me with her black hair and her braided pigtails and her clear water blue eyes and her scars her scars the scars on her wrist naked beneath a plastic watch makes me feel safe and calm."
a story absent of quotes and reality-true to its nature. but not you.
you are but a parasite, taking refuge. an outcast. a fat girl. an unloved daughter. you adapted an identity to feed off of to feed off of those around
-it.
it, thats what you are. thats what you've become. sold-out for the safety of others-those that care less about you, but atleast pretend to. they build the walls of your cancerous shell.
you're no deeper than the puddles of blood, that litter the dark alleyways of this mind.
try as you might, those who care to peek, shall see behind the lies, the pages, the lines. behind the surface scars and see what really hurts.
who you are is not wanted. who you are is never you. you exist to live as others, in others you need to see-that maybe someone will love you accept you-no interest in how you're vain.
its almost empty, you know. your tank is running low. which identity will be next? which victim will you perplex-duplexed in how to free the mind of a constant crippling rhyme?
why...lie?
why...lie?
why...lie?
I might have called it selfish, boy, how I was wrong.
you'd have to know IbetterthanThey, to posess some sort of self.
so read what you desire to be, absorb the typed syntax, adapt its DNA-to display in your house of wax.
-30 September 2010
I must always remember what is.
don't think I have much use for this blog anymore.
all the happy things a write about you are nothing more than a delusion. nothing I feel or want is real, and as I write them, why don't I catch it? I don't know, I don't know... I'm too caught up in the idealist bullshit that I used to believe in unquestionably. it always takes the dreams to remind you what is real.
I feel like drowning myself in the ocean.
"he told me that he had never came when a girl went down on him-I thought to myself... I could be that girl."
"I was just doing him a favor."
your tendencies are showing
and my memories are rushing.
he'll fill your mouth with cum
and your mind will choke on lies.
along with your twisted lines,
plastic eyes,
and absent life.
how could you die?
you drowned with your beauty
in the bottom of that broken bottle.
"I love you, and I am empty"
yeah, well, at least its half true.
-2 October 2009
awkward dream
ahahahahahahahaha.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
laugh.
fucking laugh, you piece of shit.
the blade is in.
will you twist it,baby? I wanna feel the edge
singe my organs.
it feels good. makes me come.
makes me feel.
it makes me feel.
repetition, repetition; we'll keep turning the wheel.
its the best this world's got to offer.
its the best we have to offer.
so play your drums and sew your lips
the suture wont heal the wounds from whims.
-12 January 2010
"you talk a good one, but don't want it."
-mobb deep.
aerial archaeology.
vertical highway along a coked up sidewalk.
chalk-chalk-chalk lined lips, don't talk to me.
watch the keys fall as my heels touch down.
the distance is there, the feelings all frown.
believe me yet? you'll trip on lies
til you take your head out'the skies-just watch the cracks.
watch the cracks leading up to our end.
you keep saying there's much to defend.
how is it? that you live it? this lie that we've tamed?
-for you've framed me in this perfect picture to snippet.
-18 April 2010
karma collisions.
everybody says I'm better.
maybe they're right-in more ways then they ever meant.
-28 April 2010
randomstuffIwritefromstaringatthegroundtoolong.
dried photosynthesized souls of a perplexed youth.
kill my dreams, fears, and fooled files of reciepts.
dandelions pressed between teeth-eyes filled from beauty underneath.
ants cross canyons, their path predetermined from forces unknown.
hate to say, but I told you so.
hate to say it, but I told you so.
trapped suns from gaze to glance, shadows fall and blend.
this rule will never bend-nor break.
a love which you can fake? hah.
we are no fools.
we are no fools.
-20 May 2010
Paguroidea.
A Million Little lies-no longer on paper, but in a calcareous complexion.
"I stare at her, let my smile fade it won't fade inside. I have never felt so safe or calm. This hard, damaged, drug-Addicted Baddass Girl sitting in front of me with her black hair and her braided pigtails and her clear water blue eyes and her scars her scars the scars on her wrist naked beneath a plastic watch makes me feel safe and calm."
a story absent of quotes and reality-true to its nature. but not you.
you are but a parasite, taking refuge. an outcast. a fat girl. an unloved daughter. you adapted an identity to feed off of to feed off of those around
-it.
it, thats what you are. thats what you've become. sold-out for the safety of others-those that care less about you, but atleast pretend to. they build the walls of your cancerous shell.
you're no deeper than the puddles of blood, that litter the dark alleyways of this mind.
try as you might, those who care to peek, shall see behind the lies, the pages, the lines. behind the surface scars and see what really hurts.
who you are is not wanted. who you are is never you. you exist to live as others, in others you need to see-that maybe someone will love you accept you-no interest in how you're vain.
its almost empty, you know. your tank is running low. which identity will be next? which victim will you perplex-duplexed in how to free the mind of a constant crippling rhyme?
why...lie?
why...lie?
why...lie?
I might have called it selfish, boy, how I was wrong.
you'd have to know IbetterthanThey, to posess some sort of self.
so read what you desire to be, absorb the typed syntax, adapt its DNA-to display in your house of wax.
-30 September 2010
I must always remember what is.
don't think I have much use for this blog anymore.
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