Tragically Hideous

People like you offend real cutters who have lived and witnessed real tragedy first hand. A sad sorry excuse for a tormented soul... trying way too hard to be something you'll never be... that in itself is a tragedy. Perhaps this is the way you'll succeed? Inflicting yourself with artificial misery?

Naive arrogance in high heeled shoes --- soon to be walking the heels flat --- homeless once again.

Witness Protection Program

I have seen things I was never meant to see... too much blood to speak of... in my time here... and there... (because I get around...) oh yes!

I have heard things and spoken words that should have never fallen on human ears... I should just save it all for the squirrels... my secrets are safe with them and they handle truth well...

I have connected souls that should have never been connected... and ruined lives and taken the virginity of my best friend using the body of very awful boy. And others wear life-long scars and others are slowly suffocating but don't yet realize it and then others are being used as mere bodies in the flesh... all because of my very poor judgment in character and my endless hope and faith that other people can be like me... can be sincere and conscious... and treats hearts like fragile porcelain...

I am a ruiner of all things loved due to my hope in just that- love. I dare you to say otherwise. I dare you to make just arguments about such matters... because my actions can't be justified... due to these endless and haunting results.

I want to binge and purge my truth into voided mud holes free of hearts and minds and ears and skin. I want to free you all of the pain I've caused using my best intentions as my sharpest weapon. All the pain I am still causing and watching slowly happen...

If everyone could be honest... I could relax. If I could become a liar... I could sleep sound at night... with nothing keeping my mind a chaotic collection of secrets meant to be spoken loud...

And I scream into a deep dark nothing... and I sit silent... in everyone else's blood... staining my body red.

the day she retired

I miss the day before my heart and mouth went poison... not even a kiss is needed to strike one dead... because my words are deadly and I seem to feed on the dying... or at least, I did.

And now the negativity is sauntering off like a dim short sound wave in the background. And I am grasping my own hand and my own heart again... getting further from my lost self and finding my footing once again...

But I miss the certain gray areas surrounding the days before his return... before her return...

And I am uncertain about a lot of things still... I'm just feeling less insane... that's the only thing that has changed really.

And I can feel people slipping from my hands... like sand - no matter how hard you grip... eventually the last grain will fall to the floor and be swept out to sea. And I can see... it happening.. right now.

And I think I am losing, but I no longer feel lost. I am merely background noise these days... and I think I might be happy with this. I want everyone happy... with or without me. I am destined to spend this long short life alone... and I am fine with this... I am fine.

It's a matter of lacking a certain care I used to be too full of. That constant need to protect everyone... to love everyone to my fullest capability... that constant forgetting about myself.

And still I forget sometimes... when I'm spinning too quickly. But there is work to be done... and in love, I am done. I can't protect that which longs to lack protection and refuses to embrace my care. And with this I am less sensitive. I am less a person, perhaps... but I've always been far too intense, truly... so this must be for the best.

Emotions no longer rule me. I am production. A product of what I once was.

But it's that I am missing... your arms and words... and your conversations (because I went crazy)... and the art of being enthralling to more than one person... to anyone at all.

I am lack luster despite some arguments on the topic in my nearest past. I ruined everything with my mouth... feeding it liquor and spewing out words so irrational and overly-emotional. I ruined everything with my hands... on your body, on my body, on metal against metal pulling at my blood. I wish I would have choked on my words and slowly bled to death with kind regards to my hands and sharp objects... but I'm still here, more so in the background than ever before...

So...

I have stopped spinning. I sit here still and silent. I am the retired ruiner.

i stumble in my head

this home lacks a certain southern hospitality... makes me long for further south locations and hotter nights and happy hearts i once knew so well

and i scrub the floors and my body raw... discontent and disconnected
everything is changing as everything changes and you're still the same
and i'm suddenly more lost than ever before

i spin myself stupid to watch my skirt rise and fall in the waves of air i create with my body
my pretty distraction has dissipated... perhaps the sun has turned it to dust, or my mouth has turned it to newer interests
all i have is myself and my skirt and my hands and my constant need to scrub until my bones are exposed and bloody
it doesn't feel like much

i can paint a smile on my face to hide from society... everything inside me
but i don't much feel the need these days... i don't much feel like anyone or anything
it's like i'm dead or dying... but it's really hard to tell
i can stand up straight and walk one foot after the other... but i stumble in my head

...and i'm ready to go