Medicament for Spoilage

Red stained skin smacking bright sighted monsters shredding open greedily closed cases. Staring - quiet carcass rotting, sluffing meat off bone, disfigured, unrecognizable yet loved, still cherished. Heavy heartaches filling, spilling over spouts - tumbling rocks, boulders, glass shard sand. Roll out into the docks, show your pretty dancing quick stepping feet to see if catching whales might display your bravery better. The better half of two options - Once winning now lost. Now gnashing silver sparkled*, too fancy for fur trimmed, collar wearing, dopey-eyed mutt lovers win the awards.     Not losers but masters of catastrophic, conniption fits. So annoying but acute.
White knuckled fists thrust up into the air, swa yin g in saturated, | crisp | with ice wind - call out, calling for proposed change in perspective as if control is bereft of them. Begging for anything but. There is silence and the smell of fungi festered meat and bone. Clutching tightly, blood drenched ball gowns stitched together with fondness and scheduled out accents. Screaming, slamming snap brakes, toppling over, around, off cliffs into underworlds, mythological places, nirvana, h o l y land. Sirens and [sirens]. Cover your \ears/. Red syrup soaked hair - there is the stench. Nauseating, uncanny warmth thick within lines----, choking fogginess blue - so clustered I can hear it chirping// as if suddenly tangible mass made intelligent by will alone. Once singing now dying, rotting at all angles, poke holes where thinness shows but * click * those heels while battling opposition, cures exist all the while, achieve impossibility - they appear.
Bloody, rotting, carcass held close to caged, heated machines that supposedly control chemicals. Drop it. Let it go. Keeps staining {pretty cotton summer} dresses, twisting organs causing sickness colored skin & dead eyes.
Slip through fingers, s l o w tearing skin - screeching yellow, aching, calling dark angel mercy kissed pain. Wail to will but necessity beckons. You'll feel better some morning.

Banging on Doors

Words that resonate, I'd rather not hear or think about or want.
I fall to the side before deciding to erect myself tall. Again.
I'm mindless, driving forward - The sunset on my sickly skin
Does this truly exist? Does it taste or make a sound?
I'll draw my insides outward, breath deep and try again.
Lines aesthetic; smooth yet definite - no broken, shattered riffs.
Staring, can't move this mountain with one bucket of water, nor two.
I'm building black and white galleries - masking color, brimming with joy.
Envy muses singing harmonic melodies, life they bring - fires and flames
Stand still, allow calm, childlike shadows consume a searching soul -
Let them in, be still - don't hide - breath deep and try again.

When the Pendulum Stops

That tick. 

The clocking on wood. 

The click, stick, annoying clank. 

As the pendulum swings. 

Monotone. 

Metronome. 

Back 

    &

      Forth

From one side to the other. 

That tick. 

A pause in swing. 

The platonic place. 

I didn't notice before. 

But now I do. 

As the door clicked shut. 

I noticed. 

It's stopped. 

It's platonic. 

I am not swinging. 

Monotone. 

Metronome. 

A stop in sway. 

The platonic place. 

I'm there. 

I've reached it. 

It's stopped. 

I'm making it stay.

My Recent Music Tastes Like This

When I wake up I'm afraid
I need your hand upon my face,
We lay together
Left hand around [my] waist.
I know that we are upside down,
But I'm yours if you want it.

I don't mind if there is not much to say
I know that we are made to break
And in a room, upon your bed
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
[But] Being me and only me,
I think I might've inhaled you
So what? I don't mind.

Touch my neck and I'll touch yours,
A fleck on my porcelain skin
Sends tingles down my nervous spine.
Head in the clouds
I can feel you flowing in me
That makes me anxious,
I trip over everything you say
Are you gonna stay the night?

Sometimes the silence guides our minds
And if I may just take your breathe away
There's one thing I want to say and I'll be brave,
So let me hold both your hands -
You are everything I want
And if you need someone at your side
Wake up and look me in the eyes again.

Feeling scared to breathe
I want the world in my hands
[But] if it feels like your hearts dried up
Keep on dreaming, don't stop giving
Don't dull the sparkle in your eyes.
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
You were what I wanted
But it's just time and a face that you lose.

[And] I'm not sorry.
You're outside me.
I can't even see if it's all there anymore.
Words can be like knives
It hurts but I won't fight you.
And all of the time you thought I was sad,
Tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in -
I was trying to remember
[How] these hearts adore everyone the other beats hardest for.



Words from:
"Bloodstream" by Stateless
"Sweater Weather" by The Neighborhood
"The Days Go By Oh So Slow" by Nightmare of You
"MakeDamnSure" by Taking Back Sunday
"Stay the Night" by Zedd
"Your Ex-Lover is Dead" by STARS
"Afraid" by The Neighborhood

Vibrant

That's the word that has somehow always been attached to my name. Vibrant. I feel so much pleasure when I am described this way that it makes me feel like I've done something right. I imagine colorful paintings, flowers like daisies, or my room here at home on a sunny day. I am vibrant. I am beautiful. I am alive for some odd reason, a reason worth waiting to find out. 

But see, I've reached this place so far down that not even home grants relief. My cup is completely empty and despite my desperate attempts to fill it, I've finally realized the un-patchable holes. I am tired of feeling so dead, like I'm walking in a dream - I've been sleeping so much I might as well just sleep some more. My crazy dreams are more pleasant. I can manipulate them the way I want to anyway. I usually tend to matter there. 

I wonder how vibrant I am anymore. Or what someone else sees. Because all I see is death and decay, I feel my heart rotting, my muscles are shaking, and I don't feel like eating. 

I feel like I can't get out of this. Like walls are suffocating in on me again and again. Little glimmers of hope fade too quickly and I realize I am going to end up alone in my life. I feel nothing for no one. 

There is nothing keeping me here. 

Vibrant. 

It's strange. Waking up to bobbles and chimes, an upbeat sort of jig disturbing the pitch black morning - and despite the cheeriness of steadily waking - I feel like closing my eyes and dreaming on.

And it's strange to get up despite this deathly drag-like feeling, to go about with the smile and dance that so often follows me. To be sitting on a bus on my way to class or some other appointment tipping over the verge of crying, screaming, or exploding - yet appearing just fine.

I think I need to go home.

I Choose Joy

I choose joy.

It was a phrase that came to my mind weeks ago. I lay in bed each night almost chanting it as my chest breaks out into unexplainable pain. I say it when my head is hurting all day long. When I am slumped over in some hidden corner on campus breathing through the all too often anxiety attacks. When those thoughts of inadequacy and hopelessness overtake my mind. When I start to think I can't do it anymore.


Today there was a discussion in class about whether or not we choose our emotions/reactions to things. Do we choose our emotions? I wanted to speak up every time they brought up people with depression or anxiety but I didn't want anyone to know. My teacher believe's that it's our choice. I wanted to raise my hand and attest, but he had a point. It is our choice. It is and it isn't.

I didn't choose to grow up programed for anxiety, perfectionism, or depression - My family isn't perfect. I didn't choose this imbalance in my brain or the fact that my body produces too much adrenalin. But I am beginning to understand that it is my choice how I deal with it. My choice to wake up each morning positive, serene, and equipped with the tools necessary to battle my beasts. It is my choice as to how I handle the situations and the overwhelming moments I get put into. It's my choice as to whether or not I heal or die.

No, it isn't easy putting on that happy face and dancing around a room full of people when I can't breathe. It's not easy to wake up and get out of bed when my body is weighed down by pure misery and hopelessness. It's not easy taking time for me when I have so much I need to do. It's never easy feeling all these things and trying to live a happy life. But it is my choice as to how I see it, how I react to it, and what I learn from it.

I choose joy.
I choose serenity.
I choose balance.
I choose imaginative.
I choose love.

I dive into water, cool and calm. Close my eyes and let the electric bolts taking over my chest concentrate high and mighty until I can't breathe. I'm staring up at glow-in-the-dark universes and paper birds flying out my window while listening to chattering young things just beyond my world. I don't necessarily understand what it means or why I feel this way each night. I feel like one of those friends asking me, "How could you be depressed?" As if I believe I could really control such things - shouldn't I be offended? Don't you understand that I don't know either? Like bursting novas, I realize that this is why they left. So, once again I snuff out the notion of letting just anyone in and reinforce my dwindled belief that I am unbelievably amazing. Because I am and I am sick of people doubting whether or not I believe it myself. No one here deserves me, whether that be positive or negative - it changes with my breath. So, why not just leave? Why not float up into my ceiling of stars and wings after a fist full of white and let them experience lightning storms in their heart. Because in all honesty, I never needed them. They needed me.

This I believe: my body is mine to worship, my body is mine to please.
My body is a beautiful piece of art, my body is a well oiled machine.
My body is mine and no one else's, my body follows no rules.
My body is my expression, my body is strong and smooth.
My body is and my body isn't.
My body belongs to me.
My body I love more than anything.
My body is completely free.

A Thick Crisp Air

Clocks and tea,
The night goes on
     Like a roulette wheel
  Ticking as each hour inches by
One endless round of colors and sounds
Soothing green or creamy earl wrapping -
     Thighs and waist - veiled, steamy heat
  in crisp, solid air
Perfection. Cold - Cut with a knife
Watch circles and lines
   Ascending upwards
 Miles upon miles of thick woven strings
Defeating mother nature's harsh reality
     Icicle winds
       Two noses kissing
  An eruption in my belly
And I'm sleeping.

"Everybody Needs a Place - It Should Not be in Someone Else."

There is a corner in your chest,
Kept there, wrapped in ribbons
Awaiting for you to fall inward
Was blue eyed, soft, agitated she.

Waiting for a hand softly to cheek,
Affectionate, psudeo love.
"Not allowed to leave"
Cutting hair on Sunday evenings
Dancing solo Monday through Thursday
And choking on the weekends
Again, pretend lover, over again.

There is a corner in your chest,
Safe there, I was, home.

Untied chains, flying upward and out.
Blue eyed, complex, irreplaceable me.

Second Class of the Day

We're humans - So we feel.
Empathy is a common trait.
A phrase is sketched into the wood
     of a desk in front of me.
"I want to die."
I know. I know.
  Me too.
Where are you?
I understand.
Feel my human heart beating
In times with yours.
Heavy and slow,
Painfully.
Synthetic.

Where are you?

Someone to Come Home To

Once in a Lifetime
Has passed far too soon.

I'm sick and so sick of it. 

Crawling in my skin, 

Aching to the tips. 

I'm swinging from ceilings

And falling into pits. 

Realizing now, 

This will take years

To fade. 

Breathe me in,  

And hold me close. 

I'm lo-lo-losing you -

And all I wanted was someone

To come home to. 

I'm picking at the scabs, 

Pounding on the pavement,

Cracking all my ribs. 

Choosing this version of me, 

With - not without --- you.

Reaching, stretching, contorting 

Out of control

Inside - not outside

Bruising heart and soul. 

I'm not asking for a thing, 

I give you all you request.
I'm waiting for dimness, 

For pridefully standing 

Alone.

For no longer wanting for that 

Someone to come home. 

Shin Splint Lines

In matters of love loss, we've no recourse at all.

I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone,
This is no umbrella to take into the wind.
So enlist every ounce of your bright blood
And let's jump out the window.

Chill as the dawn breaks and finds us up for sale
Don’t go thinking you gotta be tough, to play like a stone,
So let me walk these coals till you believe
You're not obliged to swallow anything you despise.

Loiter the whole day through and lose yourself in lines dissecting love
So, when they tap our Monday heads, two zombies walk in our stead.
Love’s such a delicate thing that we do, with nothing to prove, which I never knew,
And it's a lot to put us through.
Young and bright but now just a dim light off in the distance.

Just put yourself in my new shoes and see that I do what I do
I find a fatal flaw in the logic of love and go out of my head
Because you had to know that I was fond of you.
Huddled up in fear and hate because we know our fate
We settle down to cut ourselves apart.

In matters of love loss, we've no recourse at all.

There is always disappointment in being a disappointment.
I'm letting them down by being who I want to be.
But then again, is this who I want to be?

It would be easier to go back, to mold, to sit and stay quiet.
I could smile and be happy knowing they are happy.
Maybe this is what I really should do.

I hate this feeling. Stagnant water. Stench. Foul. Ugly.
Just take out my insides and replace them. Please.
Make the decisions, whatever makes you happy.
I don't want to live here anymore.

I swallow the needles to make the poison seem more bitter.
Less tolerable, more fatal.
The heat coursing, the blank, the walls -

Trying desperately to hold onto guilt, but I am meant for sun.
Free flowing water and tumbling laughter... I am meant for light.
Disband the anxiety, dissipate the depression

And I feel better already.

Posts

I have nothing to write and nothing to say.
My emotions have all bled dry.

But I feel like talking and chatting.
To say something profound.

Too tired to try.
Too numb to care.

Can You Tell Me Why You Have Been So...

I'm entering into phases and crossroads, burning bridges and lifetime decisions.
Rafting up the rivers of {mis}fortune, realizing I've been mistreating [self];;
Follow the waves, break me down to pieces and give, give, give till I drop or doze
It's what we know, what I do, why change now when it's served me well?
It's comfortable, constant soreness; keeps me awake, alert, and all commanding
Be truly prized, cared for, protected? Don't know if I understand, don't know if I want to be -
I'm not to be prized, I'm to be used, be useful and purposeful; individual, alone; {ingrained}
Hold me back and watch me work wonders, providing miracles, providing pleasures
Alone to stand, alone to work, alone in wanting and dreaming, feeling and inspiring
Tendencies of sabotage, blown to oblivion, crawl, walk, run away from something too sweet.
Away into beds of Nick and Mo, into beds without words or strings or visions, lack of decisions.
Because that's safe, that's manageable; that's stale and static, emotionally damaging and erotic.
Childish behaviors for childish anxieties, it's scorching at the stake and leaving bread crumb trails
Just for those that really wish to follow this unkempt mind, or sooth panicked, ruffled feathers.
I'm seeing cages and bars; worlds on platters, happily ever afters. Back. And. Forth.
Hysteria, insatiable desires to relive a rotting memory, que discrepancies and half hearted deaths.
Wrong, all wrong. All right. Twisted, grey scales with no distinction between choices.
There's nothing to tell, everything to feel;; rushing, speeding, crashing cars
But honest, they are. Honest we will be - and I will feel not
Despite seeping truths from a bad liar's every cracked window.

I Do Better with Images; I Do Better with Movement

Speak plainly, I do, I always have - Now - I'm infinitesimal and frivolous then inspired and enthralled.
Cracking the spine of an intricate story, all the words dancing gracefully upon the page - every syllable carefully placed to extract a certain reaction or emotion. I'm captured, I'm captivated, curious, caught and cured. Balancing eagerly on the edge of the this moment to the next.
Tangled and twisted up in every word falling from their mouths. It's jumping off waterfalls into thickets of clouds. Flying into storms, landing in paradise. Rollar coasters and run away trains. Soothing cups of tea and marmalade.
None of the mounting, overwhelming, cascading feelings of insatiable desire to drive me mad.
Contrast.
Grandiloquent calm. Overflowing assurance and joy.
No uproar of ending before beginning, no planting of fear and uncertainty, lush with impartiality.
A little less plain, I will, I am. Discovering color; noticing bold, bright, bewildering new. Swallowing fear, embracing hesitation. Following steps un-choreographed and amusing, stumbling through insecurity with feverish intent.
Not plain but fascinating.
I am, you are.

Shedding Skin

I'll extract every particle of you from out of my skin
Remove it surgically, medicated, one by one - your scent, your sound, your smile.
I'll exhale every kiss, every touch, all the bliss from my lungs
And forget the way it was to fall asleep to the sound of your breath.
My so called "love", turned to shit.
I'll take this heart from out of my chest and burn it to ashes.
Scorch that motherfucker until the wind picks up and takes it to drown.
A rightful death for a dysfunctional, malicious, broken down old toy.
Only causes me pain. Only makes me hope.
And fools me into thinking you'll actually stay.
Here.
Like this.
My mind gallops back through time, to days with 'us' instead of timeless 'me'.
My chest tightens, heart aches, and poisons spread through every vein.
I'm an addict to your soul, a helpless fanatic to your entirety
And this is my withdrawal. My rehab. My cleanse.
Thus the reason to take out all my insides, replace all my outsides and become new.
New, without you. New and clean and healed and whole.
Moved on and stunning. Breath taking, ever loving.
Miss me, regret the ending, realize you were wrong.
Whenever, if ever, damnit - I'll be gone.

I'm sick of caring for you.