Here comes the hard part.
The beginning.
Where do I start, when every time I think about your name, an ocean pours into existence,
Waves of moments laughing, tears falling, hugs that I wished would last forever and kisses that dug the hole big enough to bury all the vindicating emotions crash into a shoreline filled with evenings spent lying tucked safely into his arms that wrap me away from life itself.
I'm torn between telling you that the smell of your skin still lingers on my pillow and I can't sleep without it filling my lungs completely and that every night for the last week Ive been dreaming of holding your hand because your fingers beat out a rhythm my heart keeps on repeat or starting off with just a hi...
Why is it so difficult to just write a casual note to you without becoming completely engulfed in the tiniest details of you like the way your eyes twinkle when you laugh, or the way you jump just to make me laugh and God knows the way you simply look standing just out of my reach watching the world around you sends me into a flat spin, maybe it's just the way you smell that keeps me coming back for more, like a starved beggar competing for a discarded scrap of your time.
I think I'm just going to stick with good old faithful and write Hello Raymond, I've fallen completely in love with your delicate, gentle soul that has enough space for the entire world to fit in and your heart that's managed to keep me so warm through even the toughest of winters.
Oh god I'm useless at this casual thing. He's going to think I'm completely bat suit crazy for writing paragraphs about the way his lips create electricity underneath my skin when they softly graze againt my neck and leave tiny sparks that fill the inky heavens at night.
You. Are. Horribly. Distracting.
I find my thoughts being dragged back to you like the waves residing back into the ocean they once came from when everyday I find something simply beautiful like the way the wind blows softly against the trees right outside my windows because I remeber how much you love a chilled breath kissing your skin on a day as breathtaking as you and thanks to your intoxicating games I won't ever be able to brush my teeth without just about choking on the toothpaste as the memory of you brushing my teeth replays in my head.
It's impossible to just write you something casual when my eyes brim with tears thinking about you whispering, "Liefste Chay..." Into my ear when your hands press our bodies closer together than the sheets and duvet that line the place I miss you the most.
I've never been worse at something I'm usually the best at, and it's all because of you. It's incredibly difficult for me to find a way to start telling you that I've been the most amazing person lately and it's soley due to your influence in my life that's introduced music beyond my wildest imagination to the blank sheet paper I thought was beautiful before. What words could I possibly string together that could begin to even slightly resemble the priceless pearls you've cultivated in my shell. Where to begin telling you that I'm falling. Drowning, in fact, in the emotions that swell like the tides in the ocean of my heart. You fill me with sunshine and grow flowers in my lungs, and even though they make it hard to breathe at times, I love to have something blooming inside of me that is nearly as wonderful as the sneaky kisses you give me when you think I'm sleeping.
Okay... So here it comes.
Just me, jumping into the deep end head first here...
The hard part.
The beginning.
Hi Babe ♡
I just wanted to let you know that iloveyouendlessly.
Hope you had a good day today and that I maybe crossed your mind once or twice because you haven't left mine since we last said goodbye.
Sunday 16 November 2014
Saturday 15 November 2014
Firestarter
You can't cheat me out of the words
You promised me.
Give you're everything and
Fall to your knees to pray for a
Little water to douce the
Flames you started today.
You started a fire and your
Choking on the fumes.
You started a fire and I hope your choking
On your words.
Everything you gave me,
Yeah, I'm throwing it to
The hungry ghosts calling
Out your shitty name.
All the tears that saturate
They fill me up
And away, away they ate.
You kept pushing my body
To the point of tearing
But now it's your hearts turn
To become the ripped ribbons
At the flames that burn.
It's all the chemicals you inhale
That started this fire.
You started a fire and your
Choking on the fumes.
You started a fire and I hope your choking
On your words.
No you can't cheat on me
Not one more time.
I'm stronger than you think
And your just the slime
That lines the gutters.
Take your chemicals
You're not my miricale anymore.
You started a fire and your
Choking on the fumes.
You started a fire and I hope your choking
On your words.
You promised me.
Give you're everything and
Fall to your knees to pray for a
Little water to douce the
Flames you started today.
You started a fire and your
Choking on the fumes.
You started a fire and I hope your choking
On your words.
Everything you gave me,
Yeah, I'm throwing it to
The hungry ghosts calling
Out your shitty name.
All the tears that saturate
They fill me up
And away, away they ate.
You kept pushing my body
To the point of tearing
But now it's your hearts turn
To become the ripped ribbons
At the flames that burn.
It's all the chemicals you inhale
That started this fire.
You started a fire and your
Choking on the fumes.
You started a fire and I hope your choking
On your words.
No you can't cheat on me
Not one more time.
I'm stronger than you think
And your just the slime
That lines the gutters.
Take your chemicals
You're not my miricale anymore.
You started a fire and your
Choking on the fumes.
You started a fire and I hope your choking
On your words.
Thursday 23 October 2014
Hurting_The Tide
Hurt is like a poison,
It flows through your veins no matter how much you try to bleed it out.
It becomes an integral part of you
And reaks mass destruction wherever it goes.
It's in every breath you take and it consumes your every thought
As it clings onto your oxygen and moves slowly, painfully through your body.
Until it's infected every inch of you.
Soon smoke rings replace your halo and your wings turn grey.
It dulls the stars and the moonlight streaming through your windows doesn't seem as beautiful as it once appeared.
It floods your bedroom late at night and finds you
Awake during hours you're meant to be finding peace.
Eventually you're universe can only exist when the hurt does.
It will consume you. Completely. Wholely.
Like the tide it swallows your body and pulls you so far into its depths that you loose sight of land.
Hopelessness, lonliness, emptiness.
That's all you ever seems to locate and although they keep you a float for a little bit,
You're soon alone, struggling against a tide so strong that swimming seems pointless
And all the while the people that cause you hurt are standing on the shore line,
Screaming, "just swim!"
But you're body can't go on, and eventually you give in to the rhythmic pull,
The burning sensations creeping up on your skin,
In your throat,
In your lungs,
Suddenly
The struggle you felt to save yourself dissipates from your body
And a new blossom flowers deep inside the pits of your stomach
The struggle to just end it all
Because when swimming against the tide just becomes too much,
You eventually drown.
It flows through your veins no matter how much you try to bleed it out.
It becomes an integral part of you
And reaks mass destruction wherever it goes.
It's in every breath you take and it consumes your every thought
As it clings onto your oxygen and moves slowly, painfully through your body.
Until it's infected every inch of you.
Soon smoke rings replace your halo and your wings turn grey.
It dulls the stars and the moonlight streaming through your windows doesn't seem as beautiful as it once appeared.
It floods your bedroom late at night and finds you
Awake during hours you're meant to be finding peace.
Eventually you're universe can only exist when the hurt does.
It will consume you. Completely. Wholely.
Like the tide it swallows your body and pulls you so far into its depths that you loose sight of land.
Hopelessness, lonliness, emptiness.
That's all you ever seems to locate and although they keep you a float for a little bit,
You're soon alone, struggling against a tide so strong that swimming seems pointless
And all the while the people that cause you hurt are standing on the shore line,
Screaming, "just swim!"
But you're body can't go on, and eventually you give in to the rhythmic pull,
The burning sensations creeping up on your skin,
In your throat,
In your lungs,
Suddenly
The struggle you felt to save yourself dissipates from your body
And a new blossom flowers deep inside the pits of your stomach
The struggle to just end it all
Because when swimming against the tide just becomes too much,
You eventually drown.
Smeared Ink
My insecurities
They devour me
Slowly turning my body into ashes
Like the cigarettes i smoke
Am I destined to burn myself out
In a slow blaze of passion
That i know will kill me in the end.
Tearing at my frame
Crushing my ribs that are still
Locked and whole
But for how much longer?
My insecurities
They drown me
They hold me out to the crashing waves
Of sorrow
The master puppeteer
That pulls the strings of my life
And laughs as I tumble over the lines
Hooked deep within my burning flesh.
Bleeding black and writing in red
My blood like the spilled ink smeared over the pages of my diary
Is now smeared over me.
They devour me
Slowly turning my body into ashes
Like the cigarettes i smoke
Am I destined to burn myself out
In a slow blaze of passion
That i know will kill me in the end.
Tearing at my frame
Crushing my ribs that are still
Locked and whole
But for how much longer?
My insecurities
They drown me
They hold me out to the crashing waves
Of sorrow
The master puppeteer
That pulls the strings of my life
And laughs as I tumble over the lines
Hooked deep within my burning flesh.
Bleeding black and writing in red
My blood like the spilled ink smeared over the pages of my diary
Is now smeared over me.
Somber Stars are Overhead
Let us dance in the glittering moonlight.
Let's follow autumn leaves as they float towards a shimmering lake, caressed by fletches of white and silver.
A meeting point where the pale flicker of magic dances around the trunks of oaks and pine trees is where my eyes will catch yours in the softest embrace.
Can we kiss where the breeze touches the sky as the stars gaze down from their deep canvas of inky purple and night time blue.
A soft crackling of twigs and leaves afoot will lead us down to somewhere we can fall in love.
A soft whisper of your name will lead me to drown in you.
Let us go then to the spread of evening across a brook.
A soft whisper of water that softly dances across our faces.
Moving and painting us in a million different ways.
It sketches me a new identity as I get lost among the evergreen trees
Dancing in the whitening of the moons eyes
Watching it catch you and sweep you away to a stray place that I will never enter in your heart
Because with somber stars overhead
Who can tell us this isn't magic?
Let's follow autumn leaves as they float towards a shimmering lake, caressed by fletches of white and silver.
A meeting point where the pale flicker of magic dances around the trunks of oaks and pine trees is where my eyes will catch yours in the softest embrace.
Can we kiss where the breeze touches the sky as the stars gaze down from their deep canvas of inky purple and night time blue.
A soft crackling of twigs and leaves afoot will lead us down to somewhere we can fall in love.
A soft whisper of your name will lead me to drown in you.
Let us go then to the spread of evening across a brook.
A soft whisper of water that softly dances across our faces.
Moving and painting us in a million different ways.
It sketches me a new identity as I get lost among the evergreen trees
Dancing in the whitening of the moons eyes
Watching it catch you and sweep you away to a stray place that I will never enter in your heart
Because with somber stars overhead
Who can tell us this isn't magic?
Monday 13 October 2014
My. Summer. Rain.
Your skinny kisses give my snowflake skin shivers
And as your hand softly slips into mine
My heart skips a beat when my breathing hitches
A single raindrop shattering against a hot sweaty street
You taste like summer rain and ciggarettes
Summer rain that surrounds me
Beating against the windows to my soul
You envelop me
I could get lost inside you.
You soak through the material I use to protect myself
From downpours like you,
That threaten to completely flood the alleyways inside the city of my heart.
Beautiful and glistening, your heavenly water
Courses through my veins.
It swallows the dead leaves that have been
Taking refuge inside of me,
Leafy boats of red and orange are dragged down the
Canals that threaten to flood.
Your water fills the holes in the cobblestone streets,
And leaves the famine stricken flora
Looking lively and green.
Your summer rain surrounds me,
It makes the walls of my body look rosy
And leaves my soul filled with flowers.
And that's what love is meant to be,
A summer rain
Over a restless sea.
And as your hand softly slips into mine
My heart skips a beat when my breathing hitches
A single raindrop shattering against a hot sweaty street
You taste like summer rain and ciggarettes
Summer rain that surrounds me
Beating against the windows to my soul
You envelop me
I could get lost inside you.
You soak through the material I use to protect myself
From downpours like you,
That threaten to completely flood the alleyways inside the city of my heart.
Beautiful and glistening, your heavenly water
Courses through my veins.
It swallows the dead leaves that have been
Taking refuge inside of me,
Leafy boats of red and orange are dragged down the
Canals that threaten to flood.
Your water fills the holes in the cobblestone streets,
And leaves the famine stricken flora
Looking lively and green.
Your summer rain surrounds me,
It makes the walls of my body look rosy
And leaves my soul filled with flowers.
And that's what love is meant to be,
A summer rain
Over a restless sea.
Sunday 24 August 2014
velvet_gardens
I'm pouring myself into you, filling all your tiny cracks that flaw your perfect facade.
Let me swim through your veins and pass through your heart every second of every minute with each gentle beat.
Weave my fingers through the ivy that creeps through your delicate tapestry hands and clasp at me like I was your favourite blossom in bloom.
I drap my velvet body over your adorned frame, and the smell of you catches in my threads of blood red that now encompass your body.
I'll breathe you in if you exhale me out as our roots mix into a dangerous cocktail that promises intoxication and empancipation.
Pour me into your mould and let me fill your flawed facade.
Let me complete you.
Smokers. Part Two. ♡
I've been smoking a lot lately
And I don't know
If I'm trying to breathe you in
Or smoke you out
But even as my lungs turn to ash
And my hair catches flame
My eyes flicker towards yours
Hoping to find a lifeline they can grab onto.
I'm drowning in coffeeless mornings
And smokeless nights.
Light me up with your fire
And tear my paper heart to ribbons
Because it would be a privilege to be destroyed by you. ♡
Smokers.
I go inside and tuck myself into bed.
The taste and smell of your cigarettes didn't leave.
So why did you?
Burning: A fire beneath my skin.
Why are thoughts about burning still prevalent on my mind?
My inner fire has been blazing - reducing my soul to ashes over and over again without the slightest hint of mercy.
Burn. Burn. Burning.
It's not that I want to die - is it? I can't be so ready to completely collapse. How can I be so perfectly content with this blaze inside of me?
I do not have any excuse to give you for the reason I'm always inhaling the cold and exhaling the heat. A warmth so weak inside you yet burning at a million degrees within me.
How dare I set the world on fire just to watch it burn down. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, I'm reducing myself to bones.
After it's done, burning, I will be numb. Burnt. Rejected by a world so cold.
Only I am the red amoungst the black. Standing apart. Set against a dying night, I'm radiating.
These burning thoughts are destroying me, setting my insides on fire for fun. And without a hint of smoke to fill the breezed air it's showing no signs of surrender.
pollution_
My pages are still littered with thoughts of you that remain long after the smell of you has washed off my clothes.
My skin still tingles in the places your fingertips quietly brushed against it.
Electric sparks.
Firefly glow.
The moments with you -like the clothes strewn across my bedroom floor- are covered with bits and pieces you left behind.
Tiny remnants of the times our breezy eye contact left me breathless, breathless in my tar stained lungs that now only ever seem to inhale your name.
Chipped pieces of porcelain memories of the look in your eyes remain etched into my polluted mind.
Engraved across the pages of my diary.
The smell of your skin beats through my body like my favourite song stuck on repeat.
You're in my icy veins and it seems your sunshine smile is melting through these brittle defenses.
Cracks are forming in the fortress walls I've built so high to guard myself from being hurt again but your velvet lips march on across my battleground body.
I'm under attack in the best way possible and your persona is polluting my castle.
My skin still tingles in the places your fingertips quietly brushed against it.
Electric sparks.
Firefly glow.
The moments with you -like the clothes strewn across my bedroom floor- are covered with bits and pieces you left behind.
Tiny remnants of the times our breezy eye contact left me breathless, breathless in my tar stained lungs that now only ever seem to inhale your name.
Chipped pieces of porcelain memories of the look in your eyes remain etched into my polluted mind.
Engraved across the pages of my diary.
The smell of your skin beats through my body like my favourite song stuck on repeat.
You're in my icy veins and it seems your sunshine smile is melting through these brittle defenses.
Cracks are forming in the fortress walls I've built so high to guard myself from being hurt again but your velvet lips march on across my battleground body.
I'm under attack in the best way possible and your persona is polluting my castle.
Sunday 20 April 2014
A Thousand Tiny Pieces
In the tinniest fraction of an airless gasp, her soul was shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
Her panicked mind doesn't quite register the words when her, now bloodshot, eyes identify every curve and twist of tortured, black letters.
The floor beneath her feet slips away leaving her suspended like a lifeless puppet that's held together by dainty stitches and cotton wool ideas. Her body dances, moved by an unknown puppeteer, guiding her through an onslaught of people, noises and bodies.
Shoulders collide with hers in a fantastic display of grunts and exclaimed words, scowls find her direction as she rushes forward hoping to leave her heart somewhere far behind. She bursts through the doors of the dinning hall and runs.
Her body feels weightless as her feet carry her in heavy footsteps towards her little one man room. Her heart is pounding in her ears and her breathing is becoming erratic. Flames lick and bite at her lungs and muscles but she barely feels anything as her mind slowly shuts down.
Before she can hide away in her comfortable sleeping bag, she trips on a lose stone lying hidden against the tar. With a skid and a bounce her body suddenly stops moving leaving her stuck belly down on hot, black tar.
A group of kids making their way towards the freshly prepared chicken and veggie dinner stop and laugh at the spectacle only a heartbroken girl can offer.
A thousand tiny shattered pieces of her are lying scattered across the road. Twinkling in the overwhelming sunlight. Her blue eyes overflow with emotion as the merciless jesters point in her direction and with a hasty collection, she's up and running again - this time making it all the way into the dark confides of her oddly empty cupboard. Tears from her eyes resemble the blood on her knees, fresh and flowing.
Her heart is bruised and her body is battered but her sobs don't cry for rescue. They speak of hopelessness. Hate. Hurt. Heartbreak.
Inconsolable, she sits and cries her heart out. She sobs until it feels as though her eyes might combust and her throat crack. Her lungs heave and her chest falls.
Just like a mirror, she is shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
Her panicked mind doesn't quite register the words when her, now bloodshot, eyes identify every curve and twist of tortured, black letters.
The floor beneath her feet slips away leaving her suspended like a lifeless puppet that's held together by dainty stitches and cotton wool ideas. Her body dances, moved by an unknown puppeteer, guiding her through an onslaught of people, noises and bodies.
Shoulders collide with hers in a fantastic display of grunts and exclaimed words, scowls find her direction as she rushes forward hoping to leave her heart somewhere far behind. She bursts through the doors of the dinning hall and runs.
Her body feels weightless as her feet carry her in heavy footsteps towards her little one man room. Her heart is pounding in her ears and her breathing is becoming erratic. Flames lick and bite at her lungs and muscles but she barely feels anything as her mind slowly shuts down.
Before she can hide away in her comfortable sleeping bag, she trips on a lose stone lying hidden against the tar. With a skid and a bounce her body suddenly stops moving leaving her stuck belly down on hot, black tar.
A group of kids making their way towards the freshly prepared chicken and veggie dinner stop and laugh at the spectacle only a heartbroken girl can offer.
A thousand tiny shattered pieces of her are lying scattered across the road. Twinkling in the overwhelming sunlight. Her blue eyes overflow with emotion as the merciless jesters point in her direction and with a hasty collection, she's up and running again - this time making it all the way into the dark confides of her oddly empty cupboard. Tears from her eyes resemble the blood on her knees, fresh and flowing.
Her heart is bruised and her body is battered but her sobs don't cry for rescue. They speak of hopelessness. Hate. Hurt. Heartbreak.
Inconsolable, she sits and cries her heart out. She sobs until it feels as though her eyes might combust and her throat crack. Her lungs heave and her chest falls.
Just like a mirror, she is shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
Friday 11 April 2014
Goodnight
A sudden surge of electricity jolts her petite body upright. Cold tears stain her face and glisten like diamonds against her pale white skin, a tiny snowflake lost againt the harsh grey mountains.
Her ribs feels as though they might be bruised as her frightened heart pounds relentlessly against her feather-light rib cage. It takes her eyes a while to adjust to an overwhelming darkness at first that seems to be waging war against the light. At last her eyes adapt, just like a teenager trying to fit in with the "cool" crowd. She identifies her surroundings as her bedroom. Cold grey walls greet her with lifelessness and a hard tiled floor littered with socks, shoes and silk reminds her of the late night.
Memories of alcohol, boys, alcohol, music, alcohol and more alcohol fall into place in her spinning mind. Her feet begin to throb as her eyes pass over the 10 inch stilettos that were a good idea before 9pm.
Her small body slides back inside the warm, comforting duvet wrapped around her and a peaceful breeze whispers through her room enticing her back to a world where her subconsciousness will be king.
Less than a fraction of a sigh escapes her mouth when her mind begins to call her name. She sees the reason for her ungodly wake up call unfold in her mind and it ain't pretty.
The nightmares had started about a week ago and every night they plague her. Taunting her, tormenting her and torturing her with their nasty voices that call in the night. Some nights she wakes up shaking, completely devoid of sanity and control. Other nights her soaking pillows serve as a reminder of the wet tears of fear these nightly performances provide, but one thing is for certain. She will be woken.
Images of bodies. Halves of bodies crawling towards her appear behind her eyes, like the quick flashes of Hollywood paparazzi. Blindingly and then blind in an instant. Eyes devoid of souls, hands outstretched towards her replay, and replay and replay. Blood stains her floor and nails scratch at the tiles, like animals in captivity, as the monsters approach her bed, eyes constantly fixed on her. The prize. The meal. The main attraction.
Shivers race through her body as she sinks lower into her bedding trying to hide from her mind but the one person you can't escape is yourself. Cold sweats dampen the air and a fleeing heart rate doesn't make her feel any more comfortable.
"It's just a nightmare. That's all. A nightmare." She tries to convince herself in a strong authoritative voice, a voice that's trembling in fear.
Overcome by night the room snarls at her from dark corners and growls at her from over sized bookcases and wardrobes. The colour scheme of night, grey black and charcoal, attempts to convince her of evil. They try to persuade her to come out and play.
Tonight, even the moon has a sinister smile painted red across his face.
Tears streak her cheeks with silver and her heart shows no mercy for her delicate torso. The blood rushing through her ears sounds powerful and pronounced and installs a grave boldness inside her until a scratch at her door sends her tiny frame straight up. The fear like a bolt of energy running along her skin.
"It was all just a dream..." Her tiny voice seemingly echoes through her moonlight room.
"Or was it?"
Her ribs feels as though they might be bruised as her frightened heart pounds relentlessly against her feather-light rib cage. It takes her eyes a while to adjust to an overwhelming darkness at first that seems to be waging war against the light. At last her eyes adapt, just like a teenager trying to fit in with the "cool" crowd. She identifies her surroundings as her bedroom. Cold grey walls greet her with lifelessness and a hard tiled floor littered with socks, shoes and silk reminds her of the late night.
Memories of alcohol, boys, alcohol, music, alcohol and more alcohol fall into place in her spinning mind. Her feet begin to throb as her eyes pass over the 10 inch stilettos that were a good idea before 9pm.
Her small body slides back inside the warm, comforting duvet wrapped around her and a peaceful breeze whispers through her room enticing her back to a world where her subconsciousness will be king.
Less than a fraction of a sigh escapes her mouth when her mind begins to call her name. She sees the reason for her ungodly wake up call unfold in her mind and it ain't pretty.
The nightmares had started about a week ago and every night they plague her. Taunting her, tormenting her and torturing her with their nasty voices that call in the night. Some nights she wakes up shaking, completely devoid of sanity and control. Other nights her soaking pillows serve as a reminder of the wet tears of fear these nightly performances provide, but one thing is for certain. She will be woken.
Images of bodies. Halves of bodies crawling towards her appear behind her eyes, like the quick flashes of Hollywood paparazzi. Blindingly and then blind in an instant. Eyes devoid of souls, hands outstretched towards her replay, and replay and replay. Blood stains her floor and nails scratch at the tiles, like animals in captivity, as the monsters approach her bed, eyes constantly fixed on her. The prize. The meal. The main attraction.
Shivers race through her body as she sinks lower into her bedding trying to hide from her mind but the one person you can't escape is yourself. Cold sweats dampen the air and a fleeing heart rate doesn't make her feel any more comfortable.
"It's just a nightmare. That's all. A nightmare." She tries to convince herself in a strong authoritative voice, a voice that's trembling in fear.
Overcome by night the room snarls at her from dark corners and growls at her from over sized bookcases and wardrobes. The colour scheme of night, grey black and charcoal, attempts to convince her of evil. They try to persuade her to come out and play.
Tonight, even the moon has a sinister smile painted red across his face.
Tears streak her cheeks with silver and her heart shows no mercy for her delicate torso. The blood rushing through her ears sounds powerful and pronounced and installs a grave boldness inside her until a scratch at her door sends her tiny frame straight up. The fear like a bolt of energy running along her skin.
"It was all just a dream..." Her tiny voice seemingly echoes through her moonlight room.
"Or was it?"
Tuesday 18 February 2014
baby, it's you_
baby,
i would rather have
a simple brush of skin
from you
than a million
kisses from anyone else.
sweetheart,
i would rather have
a single hot cup of tea
with you
than travel the world
A thousand times.
my angel.
i would spend an
eternity
holding your hand.
forever looking at you.
and silence my restless heart
for the rest of my life
for the rest of my life
just existing with you.
Monday 17 February 2014
Gasping.
I'm sitting in my room. It's cold and my skin is dirty with a long days rubbings of dust and hate.
I'm alone. Mybedside light is softly glowing, but the fading light can't keep the darkness out of my thoughts, and doesn't reach the far corners of my room either.
Lyrics are pounding in my ears and I'm trying to wash away all the words filled with loathe and anger from them because today they seemed to follow and find me wherever I went. The next song that tears at me is the one song I was hoping to avoid, my trigger song.
I hear it start with that crashing sound. Those drums and guitar that play the melody of my past. My mind flashes and my breath catches in my throat.
"Really Life? Have I not suffered enough today already?", I angrily think to myself. Fuck. I can feel it. It's creeping up on me, stalking me. Waiting for just the right moment to pounce. As I'm about to run, it jumps and goes straight for the jugular.
I'm both the predator and the prey.
My heart races, my hands clench into white fists. My skin close to tearing as it stretches over my bare knuckles. I shut my eyes tightly and wish it away. I push and struggle against it with everything inside me.
"Not tonight!" ... I wish those words had actually come out, but they are trapped, pinned in my throat as a claw pierces my flesh and rips at the soft tender skin that's keeping my pulse intact.
I'm bleeding out, gasping for air. Suffocating on my own life force as it's desperately trying to keep me alive. Oh the irony. My life is slowly killing me.
There are signs of a struggle and they are painted across her skin. The darkness smiles at her from the darkest corners of her mind and the monsters hide in the shadows of her bedroom. She can't catch her breath and the more she runs, chasing as fast as she can, the more it swiftly eludes her grip. Her hands are shaking with sobs of pain as the broken pieces of her heart stab at her from the inside.
Her pillow is soaked, and it's not tears that are falling. She pushes herself up in an attempt to get out of here. A hot shower. Yes! That's it. But she only finds her dinner being splattered across the drowning floor, a burning sensation from the flame like water kissing her skin. There is no relief but at least she can breathe. At least for now, she can breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
As steady as a heartbeat she takes in as much oxygen as her tar stained lungs will allow, it's a relief to find she's still capable of staying alive.
It's a short trip back to the den of darkness and nightmares and she find no peace in the restless slumber that comes slowly and painfully to her tired mind. Her swollen eyes are shut and her body is numb but there's no peace in a place promised to be her own mind, because when you're running from yourself, there's no where to hide.
And tomorrow, she knows, it will all start over again.
I'm alone. Mybedside light is softly glowing, but the fading light can't keep the darkness out of my thoughts, and doesn't reach the far corners of my room either.
Lyrics are pounding in my ears and I'm trying to wash away all the words filled with loathe and anger from them because today they seemed to follow and find me wherever I went. The next song that tears at me is the one song I was hoping to avoid, my trigger song.
I hear it start with that crashing sound. Those drums and guitar that play the melody of my past. My mind flashes and my breath catches in my throat.
"Really Life? Have I not suffered enough today already?", I angrily think to myself. Fuck. I can feel it. It's creeping up on me, stalking me. Waiting for just the right moment to pounce. As I'm about to run, it jumps and goes straight for the jugular.
I'm both the predator and the prey.
My heart races, my hands clench into white fists. My skin close to tearing as it stretches over my bare knuckles. I shut my eyes tightly and wish it away. I push and struggle against it with everything inside me.
"Not tonight!" ... I wish those words had actually come out, but they are trapped, pinned in my throat as a claw pierces my flesh and rips at the soft tender skin that's keeping my pulse intact.
I'm bleeding out, gasping for air. Suffocating on my own life force as it's desperately trying to keep me alive. Oh the irony. My life is slowly killing me.
There are signs of a struggle and they are painted across her skin. The darkness smiles at her from the darkest corners of her mind and the monsters hide in the shadows of her bedroom. She can't catch her breath and the more she runs, chasing as fast as she can, the more it swiftly eludes her grip. Her hands are shaking with sobs of pain as the broken pieces of her heart stab at her from the inside.
Her pillow is soaked, and it's not tears that are falling. She pushes herself up in an attempt to get out of here. A hot shower. Yes! That's it. But she only finds her dinner being splattered across the drowning floor, a burning sensation from the flame like water kissing her skin. There is no relief but at least she can breathe. At least for now, she can breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
As steady as a heartbeat she takes in as much oxygen as her tar stained lungs will allow, it's a relief to find she's still capable of staying alive.
It's a short trip back to the den of darkness and nightmares and she find no peace in the restless slumber that comes slowly and painfully to her tired mind. Her swollen eyes are shut and her body is numb but there's no peace in a place promised to be her own mind, because when you're running from yourself, there's no where to hide.
And tomorrow, she knows, it will all start over again.
Monday 27 January 2014
Forsaken Thee.
I am fallen from Grace
Exempt from Mercy.
My skin bleeds sin
And my God has forsaken me.
No Angel will usher
My stained soul through
Gates of pearly white.
Nor will my name be heralded
Through the heavenly skies
When the diamonds leave my eyes.
My being is tarnished
And my halo was broken
One night while out rebelling.
My tongue spills hate
And my body shouts neglect.
I am fallen from Grace
Exempt from Mercy.
My skin bleeds sin
My God. I have forsaken thee.
Exempt from Mercy.
My skin bleeds sin
And my God has forsaken me.
No Angel will usher
My stained soul through
Gates of pearly white.
Nor will my name be heralded
Through the heavenly skies
When the diamonds leave my eyes.
My being is tarnished
And my halo was broken
One night while out rebelling.
My tongue spills hate
And my body shouts neglect.
I am fallen from Grace
Exempt from Mercy.
My skin bleeds sin
My God. I have forsaken thee.
Wednesday 22 January 2014
Bailey Jacyne and Walls.
Walls: And as every single bad feeling I thought possible
came crashing down upon me all at once like walls of the purest black upon an
already injured animal, I saw a light in the darkness. It was a voice. The
voice chased away all of the monsters creeping out of the walls and brought me
back to the light. I owe this voice and the person behind it everything, even
if they don’t believe they’ve really done a lot to help. She really has. I am her
angel, and she is my wings.
Hullo! I'm Bailey. This is difficult to start, so I'm just going to write it as though I am writing personally to each of you who may read this. I guess I should start by saying that I live around Seattle, 10,230 miles from where Chay lives. The poem that I wrote (I know, it's crap) above is about the panic attack that I had in early December. It was extremely bad. I won't even go into detail because it's honestly painful to think about. Because it was at around roughly 2 am, Chay was the only person awake at the time. We were messaging on Whatsapp when it started and the only reason why I didn't simply run outside until I passed out on the sidewalk was because I needed wifi to talk to her. She was able to keep me relatively calm by sending me voice messages. I guess I'm kind of writing this for Chay to read as well... I just want her to know how much she means to me. She doesn't believe that she's helped me as much as I've helped her, but she really has. Without even trying, honestly. All that she's done is shown me that I'm worth caring about. That's all I've ever really needed. At the moment, I'm just typing whatever pops into my head. Um.. I guess that I could say being with Chay has made me want to be a better person. I was never really a bad guy, I guess. I just had issues with.. control. I lost myself to my anger much too often (mainly with my family) and I would slip into a state of depression almost every night. Being with Chay, though, I'm honestly pretty happy most of the time. I'm still just writing whatever comes to mind so I'm sorry if this sounds like I'm an idiot or whatever. I also want anyone with depression or who is suicidal or who intentionally hurts themselves or more than one of the above to know that there are people out there who care and who are willing to try to help you through this war we've named life. I'm just going to end this here because I could write on and on and on about everything, but I don't want to bore you. So uh.. Goodbye, I guess. Thanks for reading.
Youth - If You're Still Breathing...
Broken stars and
Broken skin happen
Under the guise of night.
Your youth are filled with tequila ideas
That lurk inside corrupted minds.
We spend our days smiling,
As blue skies whisper our names.
But we spend our nights fighting
Different levels of the same game.
We darken out our eyes,
And pull on inky cloaks
To hide ourselves away,
So that no one really knows
We're relapsing again.
Young tongues slur
Their words,
Through gritted teeth and
Hate filled eyes,
With minds drowning in
Icy water, until the loathing dies.
A generation of non conformists
A generation hiding scars,
Your beautifully broken youth,
Want to frolic between cars.
Broken skin happen
Under the guise of night.
Your youth are filled with tequila ideas
That lurk inside corrupted minds.
We spend our days smiling,
As blue skies whisper our names.
But we spend our nights fighting
Different levels of the same game.
We darken out our eyes,
And pull on inky cloaks
To hide ourselves away,
So that no one really knows
We're relapsing again.
Young tongues slur
Their words,
Through gritted teeth and
Hate filled eyes,
With minds drowning in
Icy water, until the loathing dies.
A generation of non conformists
A generation hiding scars,
Your beautifully broken youth,
Want to frolic between cars.
Monday 13 January 2014
Pale Reflections
I've restarted this post at least twenty times by now. I just cant seem to find the right words that will express... well... me.
Why is this so difficult?
I'm getting frustrated with myself because all of a sudden my words seem broken, flat, meaningless. Ahhhh. I don't even know where to start right now.
Maybe at the part where I confess I'm not okay and tell you all about how I've been thinking about my scars more than I should and the time to admit I'm drowning trying to stay clean.
Maybe this post should be about how lost I feel everyday because I truly believe I am forsaken in the eyes of God. Ha. God... I'm not so sure he even exists, but at the same time I'm completely convinced.
My pale reflection just doesn't look like me anymore. Its not and that scares me.
Call it growing up, call it a teenage crisis. I have lost myself.
Oh how beautiful my tragedy is, with a war inside that wont ever calm but a calm outside that only gives way to war. A young maiden trapped by a metaphorical dragon that is life. Maybe that's what all the fairy tales were trying to say. That dragons do exist, they take shape in the form of something called life.
Oh I know! This post should tell you about how I'm scared to death I end up becoming like those closest to me. Selfish and drunk and normal. Tiny pieces of a person that once was brave, different and too reckless.
I feel like one of those girls who are always complaining about something, the only thing that's different is that I have to filter who and what I tell because not everyone will understand the darkness that I must push through.
People are scared of the dark because they cant see whats inside it. They are afraid of the unknown, the things they have no control over. So how can I be loved when I feel like darkness even in the brightest daylight? Some days I scare myself with the things I think and want to say and want to do.
At what point did the diamonds leave my bones? When did I become so consumed by the night?
My monsters aren't under my bed. They're in my head.
They haunt me at night in my dreams. In the dark confines of my mind where they know I wont escape, where they know I wont have control over them. The one part of me where I cant fight back against them.
They provide me with the most entertaining nightmares.
I hardly remember how I started this post, but I remember I had a hard time doing it, but now that I'm reaching the end it's getting easier to write again. Sounds a lot like my life at the moment.
Now i have no idea how to end.
So...
Goodbye I guess.
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