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Sunday, October 26, 2008

Alive, Me Again

I just want to feel
Whole
I just want to feel
Alive
I'm so damn sick
Of this
I want to be real
Again
.
I want to taste
The world at my lips
I want to feel the warmth
On my finger tips
I want to see
Places and faces new to me
I want to hear
My healed heart beating
.
He is nothing
Who is he?
He's faceless
I'm not his
And he's not mine
He hurt me so much
Not even time
Could repair
What I felt
.
I was nowhere
I was nothing
But I'm real
And I'm everything
And I remember
When he told me
"You're so beautiful"
Hell yeah
I know I am
She'll never be
As good as I was
To you
.
Don't you dare replace me
I'm the greatest you'll ever get
Guess ya screwed that up
It sucks when you lose the best
.
So I'll let down my hair
Get the hell out of here
Here in this grave you dug
And here where you left me to rot
Rot away in your claws
I thought you were amazing
Now I can see all your flaws
.
Do you understand?
No, you sure don't
I can see it
In your eyes
A pitiful attempt
At innocence
Was I blind to it?
I should have known
Better then this
.
And YOU should have
Filled your shoes
Been a man
The best that you can
But you're just a boy
A bit my junior
With a cute
Mushroom cut
And with some pretty
Green eyes
And a nice
manly body
And a handsome
Smile
All of them were mine
Was it worth my while?
Nope.
Did I screw it up?
Nuh-uh
You did my hun
.
And I don't meant to point
And I don't mean to stare
But you'll never know
How GOOD it feels
Just to let this out
Now that its over

Friday, October 24, 2008

Cry

(Just a poem, I'm not the girl in it)
She used to be beautiful
Till you walked her way one night
Her eyes shattered like glass
Piercing deeper than the sharpest knife
.
She used to always smile
Her lips light and free
Now it's been a while
Her lips are too heavy
.
Thoughts are like pennies
Words are like gold
They don't come out
As often as they should
Hiding in the dark corners
Haunting shadows
A cry for help
She should have left you
.
You called her a bitch
You called her a whore
You hit her so hard
Until she could scream no more
Then you left her alone
In the rotting dark
No where to call her home
You should have cared
You missed out
On a beautiful soul
.
You held her close
And dried her tears
All part of your plan
To expose her fears
Why did you do it?
She used to be happy
Now all she does is cry
.
Blade sharp at her throat
Praying
For the day she'll die
If you keep this up
It will be sooner than you think
And if you have any luck
You'll only have to go through
What she has
1,000,000 times
.
On the edge of the night
She prays someone
Will give her some light
Or something she can call
Her own
.
She used to always laugh
But now her joy is cut short
By her rusting knife
She can speak no more
.
Her blood runs with venom
Venom from your bite
Your pointed teeth
Not as sharp as your words
She can't fend
For herself
She's in trouble
She's calling for help
.
But you're too fast
This breath will be her last
And as her life
Leaves her hazel eyes
I hope you see the peace
That she's wanted for so long
.
Now she's okay
I hold her in my arms now today
She can smile
She can laugh
She can be happy
She doesn't remember you
Or what you used to do
To put needles in her heart
Day after day.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Cross Your Fingers and Your Ts (part 2)

The dark was obscured when a spot of light shone through the deepest crack in Marah's field of vision. It was small, but it blinded her, and she moaned in distress. She felt...disconnected, unaware and invalid, drinking in the shapes of the world reluctantly. As lines and colors formed in the slits of her eyes, she finally connected, her mind and her body becoming whole again.
The last thing she had seen through her wondrous eyes was the smooth black Jaguar, flashing past all its surroundings and coming in impact with...her!
She jolted upward, immediately regretting so when she felt an electrical current surge through her head. She was feeling pain...her entire body aching in tragic harmony. A sign, perhaps, that she was still alive?
But despite all the pain that seemed to be all balled up and turning her body into a blob of moosh, she felt a numb and distant sensation. Her eyes opened; it felt as if she were forcing herself to wake after a long, restless sleep.
When she looked around, she expected to see an IV, see the tubes winding like fettachini around her body...see the white walls stained with death...the shining linoleum floor.....the smell of anesthetic fresh in the air....
Instead, she was behind yellow tape that read: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION, her body sprawled on soft dewy grass. She heard men talking in serious tones, and the voices of women in distress.
She stood up. Bodies moved around her as if she was not in existence, and she almost thought she wasn't.
"Hello?"
Her voice cracked slightly. It had been so long since she had spoken, it seemed. Looking down at the grass, she saw no imprint of where her body once lay. For a brief moment, her head swam. What the...hell?
She walked, dragging her feet across the ground, but the grass seemed to go right through her feet. The commotion around her didn't include her at all. Bodies flew past in a blur, but she stood still.
"Hello?"
Her voice pierced through the den unnoticed. People continued to talk.
She listened to what they said, catching phrases and words, passing through her ears.
"Her family..."
"Worried..."
"Can they afford the bill?"
"In a coma...vitals are holding, but can she come out of it?"
"What about..."
"The man who was driving the car, will he be arrested?"
"They haven't caught him yet..."
"Car in a ditch, no trace of him..."
"But what about her, will they pull the plug?"

"She's only fifteen..."
The words hit her like tight fists. She felt herself choking.
Am I even....here?
No one saw her. They kept on talking.
"I'm right here! I'm right here! Can't you see me?"
There was no response.
"Hello?!"
Nothing.
She ran up to a woman, her brows furrowed and her wrinkles made definite by the lighting of the street lamps.
"Hello...?" She waved a hand in front of the woman's face.
She kept on talking.
Marah backed away.
What the hell is going on? Why the hell is no one seeing me? Am I invisible? Am I glass? Am I not even here?
Marah shook her head. She needed to get away from there. She needed to get away from there now. Before she could think twice, she bolted.
She pushed through the crowds and the police officers, but they didn't notice her. She shouldered and pushed against people with great force, but they paid no heed. No one budged from there position. It was as if Marah was in another dimension.
And maybe she was.
So she ran as fast as she could, away from where they had found her body.

Friday, October 17, 2008

mASK

Easily disposed

Words and thoughts that no one knows

Feelings that still cannot escape

At any given time or place

Your friend is the sky

It never let you hide

Anything that you could feel

Anything you thought was real

You hurt

And the blade that you once could feel

Once again feels much more real

Then you ever thought it would again

You just thought it was fine,

Hide it all away inside

The blood that runs

The pain that comes

Is only real to you

And no one else

So you ask

Should I....

Keep it all behind the mask?

The daily facade

That you put up in this play

This horrid

Shitty

Thing that we call life

You want to let it all come out

But are too involved to know right now

Just how

You could let it go so far

You think your crazy

You know you aren't

Somewhere inside

You know you're

Better than that

And you hate yourself

Because it's coming back

The times when you

would crack

Every time

And every line you crossed

Would just end up coming back

And swallowing you up again

And you hurt

You hurt

You just admitted that

It hurts

But only you know

You don't let it show

Just leave on the mask.

No body can tell

That you're not here

You're in your own hell

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Info (thrown together in a hurry)

Okay, so this is a little update.
The story that I started is going to be part of a series.
How long? I don't know right now. But if you don't think that the story is that completely wonderful and amazing, then you're right. I wrote it in two short sittings, and it came off the top of my head. The plot is forming in my mind. This story is going to be juicy.
But it's not near my best writing. I may revise it later, but for now I'm keeping it like it is.
So, a brief synthesis on the story. It's about a girl named Marah, about how she was just going through an average day in her life, and how suddenly she gets hit by a car, 'dies' and roams the world as a spirit. She sees everything an everyone on her life changing, and desperately tries to get someone to notice her. She'll eventually find someone, but I'm not getting into that now.
It's not real elaborate yet, but I'm starting to feel a connection to Marah, and in that way, I can put myself in her shoes and start writing as if I were actually her. It will be marvelous.
Other than that, I'll be posting one-post stories and poems along with it. Just to throw in while I develop a plot for my story. I'll make it as interesting as possible, I swear.
Well, this post is really choppy, and basically just thrown together. BUT I have a math report (yes, you heard me. Math report. I don't know why either, just don't ask), to attend to, so I will have to part before I can get back to you in another post. School is a pain.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Cross Your Fingers and Your Ts

Morning eyes cracked open as beams came down from heaven onto the base of the mattress. Fragments of shattered memories that had been broken apart by deep sleep wove themselves together again to form pictures in Marah's mind that she was sure had been only dreams. She felt dizzy, and her head was apart from her body, even though she knew that she had nothing to drink that night before. The party seemed like an age ago, and she was sure that nothing happened...
She ran her fingers down her neck to a patch of raw flesh that she was sure...
Her face turned red. Her body hatched goosebumps. It wasn't a dream.
She ran to the mirror, her hair frizzled from lack of conditioner, her makeup smeared from lack or removal, her eyes drooped from lack of sleep. But the raw flesh on her neck was completely noticeable, and had been from someone the night before. She blushed as she thought of the hazel eyes and the walnut hair....
She checked the time. The clock blinked twelve.
Sh*t.

Marah peered out the window. The sun was already high. She was going to be late. Her piano lesson was at ten. She quickly pulled off her shirt and put on a turtle neck, making sure the collar covered a huge portion of her neck. It did. Good. She didn't want anyone seeing, especially not her family members...
Running down the stairs, she jumped the last two and landed with a thunk with socked feet on the hardwood floor. She did a sharp turn into the kitchen, stomach growling eagerly for something before she flew out the door.
"Sooooo...." Marah heard the voice from the kitchen. She sighed and turned.
It was none other than her twin brother. Mark was a pain in the butt. Especially since being twins, they had some sort of mental connection. They understood each other, felt what each other was feeling, and all that jazz. That sounded cool to Marah at first, she thought she could form a close relationship with her brother, but it turned out just to be a form of annoyance to both of them.
"What?" She said flatly, scooting on the soles of her feet into the kitchen, awakening to the smell of eggs and toast. No matter how obnoxious her fifteen minute older brother was, he had the gift for making delicious food.
He stood with his back facing Marah, cooking something on the stove, spatula in one hand, glove in the other.
"I was just wondering if all this you're hiding from me, maybe, jusssssst maybe, has to do anything with your little lover boy, Roby?"
Marah turned her head sharply, so that her short burgundy hair hit her face.
"What if it does?" She glowered, her voice dripping with malice, "Stay out of my head, you little son of a-"
"Hey, hey!" Mark turned from his cooking, "Don't threaten me, baby girl! I ain't got nuthin' for you to be hatin'. I just wanted to know if you got a little further with him...your little boy toy..."
Marah hissed, "Shut it. There's nothing between us, nothing will be, it was all just a one night thing, I mean NOTHING to him, and he doesn't mean ANYTHING to me."
Mark grinned, knowledge sparkling in his eyes. Of course Marah was lying.
"Sure, sure. Whateva you say, baby girl. Want some eggs, dearest?"
Marah muttered something crossly, but soon found herself flying out the door, stomach jumbled with yummy eggs and toast.

The air was sharp, sharp like nails, but they didn't pierce Marah's lung. She inhaled the cool air welcomingly, loving the cold feeling of fall that was on her skin. She hurried along, her eyes scanning the ground below her, scanning the leaves and twigs that had been trampled into the sidewalk. The fall was at its peak now. Marah loved fall. Nothing was more beautiful when the world was dying for the year. Kind of sad, but fall brought so much joy. Cider, donuts, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and everything that anyone could look forward to. It was a time for hot chocolate, and a time to watch freaky movies and take trips to horror houses. The best part of all.
Marah was walking down the road, content and feeling more alive every second.
There was something more between her and Roby. Was it the way he said her name? Was it the way they snuck out sometimes, to dark, secluded places? Was it the way she was always happy when she was around him? She didn't know, but she was sure this was love. How couldn't it be? Roby had accepted her, her and all her faults, and loved her just as much as she loved him. She couldn't have been luckier.
Her life was completely in line. She couldn't have been happier. She found herself skipping along with a tune in her head, finding herself tapping keys on her baby grand, her beloved piano that had brought so much happiness to her, almost as much as Roby did. The joys of her life. She sighed in happiness.
The silence of the morning was cut in half by a siren. A police car.
It was followed by several others. What was this....a chase?
Marah stopped for a moment, squinting into the distance. Was it up ahead?
The sirens got louder, echoing throughout the small suburb. It was so unnatural to hear of any crime down here. Everyone was peaceful, and the crime rates were so low.
People stood out on their porches, talking amongst themselves in confusion, as the sirens got louder.
There was a squeaking of rubber on pavement, and the sound of an accelerating vehicle as it seared down the road, down the street and through the burbs.
In the distance Marah could see a small black dot, growing bigger, and bigger by the moment.
She examined the car. It was nice. A Jaguar, polished to perfection. A stolen vehicle?
The thought spiked Marah's interest. It was coming this way? Her heart pounded in her chest. If this was indeed a chase, she could be in potential danger.
But she was far enough away from the road....wasn't she? She looked at her surroundings. Not really. A few feet from the road. As the car grew larger and closer, people yelled at her from their porches.
"Get out of the way, kid!"
But she didn't move. Something else wasn't letting her. And as the car grew closer and closer, and the sounds grew louder and louder, she saw that the escape car was coming.....directly toward her.
But she couldn't move. She was planted. People yelled at her, screaming for her to get away from the road. But something held her interest.
Some sort of familiarity.
As the car neared, until it was so close, and the wind was full of yelling and screeching, did Marah blink back into reality.
She was in danger. Serious danger.
She moved out of the way, as fast as she could.
But she was standing on a curb. And as a black Jaguar going at seventy miles per hour rounded the corner, it swerved completely off the road.....
There were bright headlights
shouts
confusion
The last thing Marah ever saw was....
the flashing light.
then there was nothing
nothing but
darkness.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Rubber

I think I'm going to change my blog into more like a creative writing blog...how does that sound? I can't really just write when I'm feeling, when I need to put my feelings through a creative filter before putting them onto paper. Plus, I don't know if anyone might read this blog that I know, so I sure as hell don't want to write with just plain names and plainly stating the obvious.
I think I'll write mini-series, like a continuation off of my "My Neighbor is a Murderer" little blurb I wrote a few months back. I can turn that into a real story. Of course, none of it will be true, it's just that my neighbor scares the crap out of me. Even people I bring over think he's creepy. Well, at least I tell him I think he's creepy. But SHHHHHHHHHH, what if he read this?
And maybe I'll start writing poems again; I feel inspired ever since one of my friends said, "I really liked that poem you wrote....it was....AMAZING." I was flattered. I seriously thought I had sunk to on all time low on poetry. I just haven't attempted anything in a while, aside from a cute little poem I wrote about a month ago in literature class (I'll post it, it's great), which is a fun thing to sing to a tune. You'll see.
So that's basically it. I changed the layout because I was sick and tired of looking at the tree. I mean, it was cool, but I just wanted to change it. So now it's a rose. YAYYY. Or at least when I first changed it was. I dunno, I might change it again.
This is me saying goodbye. (!!!!not really....)
I probably won't make as many blurbs like this, but hey! Who cares? I have a whooping zero reading my blog. I mean, I read it from time to time just because I laugh at alot of stuff I've written. Seriously, some of this stuff is hilarious. But you aren't me, so my perspective is probably different. Plus, I'm a crazy woman, so things generally all appear different to me.
HERE WE GO!

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

I hate myself.

I've had the crappiest day.
I've had the crappiest past several days.
I feel like one of those deranged plastic toys that got goofed up on the assembly line. So they throw it out, or recycle it, so maybe it can be used again, but will always end up in the trash.
I can't tell anybody.
My best friend can't talk at the moment.
I feel like I have no one to go to.
People I care about have been turning around and lashing out at me, or ignoring me, or just won't be around me. I feel like even God has left me, just sitting here, alone in my room. And I'm afraid, because I might do something that I might regret, something that might come back to hurt me.
And I'm scared because when I thought of that thing, my heart raced with excitement.
I don't want to feel this way.
I don't have a cure, and I feel like I'm falling.
And now I feel like I'm just complaining, and that it doesn't matter, and that someone will say, "Just grow UP!" or tell me that this is all just a stupid game, and laugh and say that it's no big deal, but how could it be no big deal when it hurts this much?
I think up remedies, I think up cures, but none of them work, and I want them to, because I have so little to hold onto anymore, because I'm just that rejected toy that no one wants, that you play with, and get sick of after a while. I'm just collecting dust and feeling old, I'm only in other people's way, I guess I can't help anyone.
I guess there's no way of knowing how I can get better.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

*THWACK*

Is the sound that is made when a shoe comes randomly flying across the room and hits me in the face.
I'm being LAZY!
That's why I feel like a piece of crap.
I'm not getting what I want because I'm refusing to see logic. I'm like the fat man on the sofa who refuses to take the garbage out, and who therefore has a house that smells like wet dog and moldy cheese. I'm the little kid throwing a tantrum because they can't get what they want in an instant. I just need to grow up. Wipe my tears and say "To hell with this!" and get on.
Because I've spent WAAAAAY too much time feeling sorry for myself.
If I'm having a problem with the way some certain friends are treating me, then you know what? I'll have a talk with them. If I want to somehow make things the way they were again, then you know what, I'll find a way. If I want my grades to go up and beyond, then you know what, I'll study my little ass off. If I want to be a good writer, than I'll screw what my literature teacher says and start writing.
I admit I don't want to get up off my butt, but I'll have too. I'm a slave to my problems, working for them, trying to shrug them off. I've hit the brick wall, and I can't get over it. Grappling hook gone, no spidy-powers for me, I guess I'll use my bare hands. Scrapes and bruises? F*ck it, I've seen worse. Tears and sweat, to hell with that! Low self-esteem and unhappiness? I have worse to worry about.
And I'll just keep climbing, and climbing, and whatever makes me want to fall will just have to be pushed aside, because I know myself to be better than that, and I know what I have to do for myself. I'll be angry, I'll be upset, I'll be sad, I'll be hurt. But I always will be. I'm not going to be perfect. And in the end, I'll get what I want, even if I don't get it for days, or months, or years. I'll work till I'm old and dead.
I'll make friends, I'll love, I'll care. Maybe I'll get over what has happened, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll stay true to what I have in mind right now, and maybe I'll change my goal. I don't know if I will, but I stand strong now. Out of my way, I'm taking out the trash, I'm wiping my tears. I'll live my life.