I have a Tumblr now...

http://amandavalentine.tumblr.com/

the stuff I put over there will be much different then the stuff I post here...

fading into failure

So this is what failure looks like...
A glance in the mirror
Failure to eat...
Notice the bones
Failure to sleep...
Herion chic under eyes
Failure to play...
Ears gone deaf

And I am failing and falling deeper
I am burnt. I have been burnt out.
Set on fire and stubbed out quickly...
Over and over again until all you have is ash

So like ash, I lay here
I am good for nothing now
Burnt beyond any good quality
Fading with each tiny little lick of a breeze

soul-less and smiling

color me perpetually devastated
and i knew this day was coming
and i felt it would be soon
but still...
perpetual devastation has found me cold
...and soon to be very very drunk
and it's my fault for always holding my tongue
every chance i ever had to tell you how i felt
every chance you gave me... almost begging me to just say it
and i bit down so hard i bled into my mouth
i swallowed hard and smiled... tongue-less, all lips and teeth
spewing optimism to simply see you smile
to smell the relief exude off of you
to bass in your glory and my misery all at once
and now is the time for me to realize
everything i've done has been wrong
i was wrong......
but i will never tell a soul

Sleep's Bruises

A blood soaked and thirsty night... without you, without the lighter side of me
And I'm getting weaker
And I'm getting more tired, the more sleep I get
And I am always hoping when I lay my head down it won't lift back up again
And the hours of sleep multiply as the bruises on my body grow
Like blood filled rivers underneath pale skin... pushing up trying to escape
And I don't recall bumping into anything
And I don't recall bumping into you
I sleep sound, I sleep alone
My life's pulse comes in the sound of keystrokes and text message alerts
And I wake to vibrations
And I am awake and bleeding...
Underneath my skin
Waiting to float away from the inside out
I'm waiting

five years

Tonight I opened my eyes... and without blurred vision... I was able to see you for you... I was able to see the monster you have become. I always thought what I was seeing was my own reflection... in my tears... it was me looking back into my own eyes... but no... the tears fell dry this evening and I realized my vision was 20/20... and the monster's really you.

I have spent the past 5 years apologizing for all of your mistakes. I have spent the past five years thinking that perhaps I was just crazy for the sake of being crazy. To think all it would take was seeing it through someone else's eyes.. through my own eyes... I had become my own perfect stranger... completely in denial that I could be the victim............... once again.

This is not my fault.

Welcome to Hollywood

The water tastes bad... or is that just my mouth?
I am what feels like one million miles away from where I need to be... in every sense of the word... in every senseless way
And I have said it before and I will likely say it again...
So this is success? Someone please come save us from it?
I was so much happier getting by, unknown
I was perfectly fine appearing much less tall
This all grew from a seed of spite and I wonder why and how we got here?
It is rather apparent to me, always
But now that the moment is gone how do we get past this?
Now this means something different... but how do we shake that old dirt off?
And we are something they said we'd never be
And still we spit in the faces of success repeatedly
Fame or fury? Fame from fury?
This little fucking abusive short-fused outlet has taken on a whole new shape
Morphine flavored and more numbing than ever

Romance Defined

They call me romantic but my scale for romance is weighed by liquor and blood loss... the lace and flowers are all smoke and mirrors, truly. And how much I love you all depends on how clean I lick the knife when I'm done.

Paranoia in Untold Sounds

I want someone in whom I can tell my secrets to... in that hushed mellow excited way I used to... before you fell in love with me... before my thoughts were censored in a way to not harm you... because I have a secret and it needs to come out and spill over someone other than myself... I have something bottled up and about to burst inside of my own little shell... tearing me open wrist to elbow once again... creating an almost toxic atmosphere around me that only I can breath and suffocate in... and I am suffocating and I am terrified that if I die no one will ever know... I am shaking daily in my thoughts... I am paranoid beyond any paranoia... because if I go someone needs to know...

I wasn't... and I'm not

I become more and more certain each day that you truly might be the one who got away... poor judgement, poor timing... have left me pretty poor, indeed.
And you have escaped because my thoughts could not.... could not form words to be pulled through the exit wound... and now I am wounded, but smiling still through it all. And you are left unaffected and unaware because you still have me like you had me... and I'm the one who's at a loss... for words, for comfort, for the wealth of what could have been... if I could have been better... but I wasn't... and I'm not.

Rethinking Romance

I am a meaningless machine....
I am wound up tight so you can watch me dance for hours...
I am here infront of you now so you can rethink your romance...
I am here thousands of miles away so you can have meaning for one short moment...
So you can be missed and have something to miss...
Until something meaningful and beautiful appears before you...
And your redefined romance will be smeared across their lips...
And my lips will remain dry............. always.

I am not depressed

I'm not depressed - I'm human
I feel more than one thing at a time
I take comfort in sharp objects
While you go do your drugs or spoil your liver
I really don't see a difference here
I really don't see the difference
And still you pick and pull at me
You say, "oh hey! just cheer up"
And that line makes me want to vomit
...on your favorite pair of shoes
I am a creature of spite and my stomach is full
...of the years worth of bullshit I have been fed
Don't temp me tonight
I am not depressed but I am ready to purge

Plastic

I have painted my face with plastic... one too many times
And now I am stuck in this same old expression
And with it I sing the same old tune to make you smile
Underneath it all the problem lies... it's a lie
I don't give a shit about you
I don't give a shit about a goddamn thing
But smile pretty for the camera
And smile pretty for the client
My world is burning up and my bridges falling down around me
But I will smile until I'm stuck here...
And the truth is I already am
The truth is I am always real.... underneath the plastic
The truth is I am always much worse than I seem
But give me your money... give me your love and admiration
Because my face is painted nearly perfect...
Lips pointing up towards the corners...
Eyes never looking down

Useless

This is useless
Please don't touch me
I am over it... again and again
I need distance
But the future feels so far away
And the further I get from there...
the closer I get to here and now
And I wonder, really? Do I care?
And now I feel more careless than ever
More numb with each stabbing pain
My misery seems to manifest in physical illness
And I am miserable so I am doubled over in agony?
And I don't see anything fair about this
I don't really see the point
Where the fuck did that double rainbow go today
Gone in a hot second of my being completely disregarded, once again
And I am exhausted by this
I am exhausted by your presence
It makes me want to disappear forever
It makes me want to finish what I had once begun

Ghost

Perhaps I am a ghost... because when I speak you do not hear me... but you still talk to me in darkness and ask me for guidance... my answers just never seem to really come through... no matter how loud I scream... the words are lost... and you fall off the edge of the world despite all the caution I've voiced. What is a ghost to do... but finally disappear?

Like

"I don't know how I can miss you this much and still not have met you."
Might be the sweetest line I have ever been fed...
And I am hungry... but not foolish.
So I will only eat with caution... chewing eat bite over and over again.
A comfortable enough consistency to swallow.
And I swallow hard. And I like it. But only so much...

And my blood runs hot but slow...
To keep my body temperature at a very specific degree.
And part of me wants to just let go, for once.
But that other part screams in my face like my uncle did once when I
was 6 years old and crossed Berry Street without looking both ways
and nearly died. I will never again forget caution.

Flirting with danger is very far from throwing yourself under a bus.
But red looks good on me and blood turns me on...
These little inner conflicts fuck with me, like you do.
These little inner conflicts define my passions...
What defines you?

Ironic

I am drunk tonight... wasted even!
Arms stretch out... fingertips to you..
I am so confused. Half of me doesn't even care...
The other half cares to much...

And I wonder if you have moved on and I hope you have...
I do... Because I have... but have I? Without closure?
How far can I get?????

And I don't spend months of my life talking to someone for nothing.
I expect I'll have a friend... in the end...
But my expectations of you have always come with fog and uncertainty.
My expectations of you have always fallen short... as I fall.

Whoever is here to catch me... is never you.
Whoever is here to lift me up... if void of your voice.

And Irony strikes loud and CLEAR tonight...
Because the wall you've hated has fallen... and you are not here to benefit
You are not here to eat the fruit.

Instead I fall into a strangers gaze...
Much more familiar than yours ever was
Instead I find myself in "better" company
When it's you who has worked for this

But you choose not to be here.
You choose not to eat.
You choose not to ever speak to me again?

Alright. Irony. Okay.

Watching You Deflate

I have decided to post some of my "private writing" from awhile back... finally. It has posted in order... so you can find it by the link below. It is relevant to my newest posts... strange enough.

http://rilomonroe.blogspot.com/2009/07/watching-you-deflate.html

Silent Treatment

This silent treatment has me thinking and feeling...
Feeling more grateful than ever!
I'm glad I am 7 again... and in the second grade...
My accidental mud pie sabotage resulting in this same thing!
Silence. Michelle wouldn't talk to me for 3 whole days!
That's a long time for a 7 year old... But now I am 29.
And now I really don't get hung up on these immature acts.
You were always one to punish and then deny.
You were always one to install self doubt.
And your silence has been golden.
My resilience has been fierce.
And still I try... but not out of sincerity...
But more so to make my point.
I am not who you think I am.
I am not who you wanted me to be.
And I am Okay with this.
I know almost every jealous moment escaping your mouth..
Or fingertips... screamed guilt.
And I was right-on about you.
And I was right about this.
And your silence proves you wrong.
And your silence proves me right.
And the silence shows just how insincere every moment has been...
With you... for you...
You were just a fantasy wrapped in a non-existent friend.

And I could possibly love you...... if I truly were insane.

Lend me your ear... lend me your hand...
Let me tell you how it is and walk you back through how it was...
And how we got here.
I toss and turn at night. I have art on the mind. I have new eyes.
New eyes to look at and look through and look forward to looking into.
Your memory is fading fast and to it I clutch... I pride myself on persistence.
But the inconsistency that makes this consistent leaves something to be desired.
I just though you should know...
I am moving on.
I have held hands with another idea of what my life should be, and is.
I locked arms with reality and let go... free falling from a "shot down" plane.
And it's as plain as day... that this was shot a long time ago.
Drifting with the wind... air under wings to keep this afloat just a little longer.
My friend's say, a little too long. (and I agree)

Pre-Mass Destruction

I am walking into what could be a brilliant disaster and I don't really mind...
I am not running away from the pile of decay that will grow with the aftermath.
I come without any defenses and I think my shield is finally down.
I welcome this... all of it...
This is a breath of fresh air. This is just what I need... right now.
Excuse me while I take a moment to be selfish... take a moment for myself, for once.
And I will consume and devour this. I will drag my nails and sink my teeth in... deep.
And I will let go.... when I'm ready........ and not one second before.

Pretty Little Waste of Time

I am left in silence and I am silently unaffected?
Without a voice, without a care... in the world.
And it's this that makes me realize how I hold stock in some things with no true value.
Pretty distractions are just that... pretty distracting. Pointless, even.
And you are always without a point anyways, truly.
And I am always misunderstood. Well, at least... I was.
Combining going no where fast with getting some place far too fast is toxic, really.
And I opened my eyes this morning and tasted the pillow with my smile.
And I closed my eyes last night without a thought of you, for once.
I am a force beyond your control. You are a passive (not so aggressive) waste of time.
You confuse patience with procrastination.
But for once... I am not confused. Not misguided by your over anylizing tendancies.
And I realize that the way I live is the way I live. I am who I am. (and it's not wrong)
So take my hand and lead me to heartbreak in another's arms...
Because I'd rather feel love than this nothingness...
I would rather feel a cold sharp break than feel nothing at all.

What is lost with success...

I reach out with my hands into the darkness to feel something familiar
There is nothing to brush against anymore these days... in the dark, in the light
The new has come to be what is familiar but I'd love to see your eyes looking at me
Look at me the way they used to before I accomplished anything at all
You always looked at me as if I were the sun and you were a small planet in orbit
And now people see me and want the world but I refuse to give up what remains... a tiny spec of dust or a memory of the hug that came before most all things
I miss being nothing at all
I miss being everything to you

Giving Tree

I go through these phases where I want to see the bones in my arm and I am unsatisfied otherwise. All the blood in the world is not enough blood and every single human interaction rapes my soul just a little bit... like a tiny little devil's kiss behind the ear... a whisper of mass destruction... every human sound makes me cringe and I can hardly eat let alone stand the sight of myself or the sight of you and you and... you. I can feel this and this is not natural and I am not this evil but my skin crawls with callous and I want to just give up.

Since when is fear a crime...

Since when is fear a crime of passion... committed against yourself?
Everyone has fucked you. Fucked you over. The internet is an evil place.
And the first time something good comes along you take it for a fucking ride.
Your fees are too high. Understandable expectations. Unacceptable behavior.
Two wrongs have never made a right.

But still you sit there expectingly. Preparing for the worst in your own little way.
More selfish than you realize. More selfish than you (actually) are.
And the nerve to think that history will always repeat itself.
The shit you learn in grade school can't always be true.

But you wished it away. You wished for things to be different time and time again.
And finally you learned a lesson. Finally you learned that they are, indeed, "all the same."
But this one might not have been what you were expecting.
But the possibility of this makes you uneasy.

High hopes carry a much longer and heavier fall.
So you went and did it first. Pain avoidance.
If he is already doing it I should probably be doing it too.
Keep the scores even and thus be easier to settle in the future-tense.

Because you were left high and dry far too many times by things unacceptable.
But you accepted them for 3 years, 2 years, 5 years - at a time.
Guys always suffer from that "better trophy out there" syndrome.
It has proven to be insufferable. It has proven recently to have finally changed you.

You are 10 years in the making.
A disaster when you should be a mansion.
The queen of organized thought downgraded to the queen of chaos.
Keep it all unclear so you can't get hurt because there were no boundaries.
Or because the boundaries were more open...

Open and shut case scenario.
Open and shut.

Loose Steps

I would still come to you if I were asked to...
I do what I'm told more than I lead on.
You have more control than you realize.

This is why I pull away. This is why I push.
Sometimes it takes awhile to realize not all intentions are bad ones.
Sometimes it takes awhile to realize that being "kept" isn't exactly life's end.

People have given away so many times... a heart and body loan... the idea just felt so foreign.
Something that seems to be unheard of... in my little circle.
But the idea sounds so perfect when my feet are on the ground.

Helping Hand

The tiny box reads "helping hand"... the irony tickles me with each slice.
No. The irony is miserable and I don't "need a hand" like this.
Cut free, no blood spills... it's this I whisper...

"I really thought that we could have a conversation.
I thought that if I could get there I could shake this."

But my mouth and mind get in the way everytime we get this close.

Maybe one day you'll find me running;
I'll trip over myself and you'll take my hand and help me up.
(the kind of helping hand I've needed)

desperately seeking my good name

Am I really this desperate?
Desperately seeking sleep... dreading dreams... or nightmares.
Desperation and dread consumed the butterflies.
Work consumes the time I planned to re-paint my nails and dye my hair.
Work work work.
Excuses to not eat and sleep.
Excuse me when I fall dizzy.
Detoxing... in more ways than one.

And today I told her goodbye forever in our own little way. She knew what I meant. I never messed that one up because I could speak in code and with one nod and glance she knew. She knew this chapter was done... and she smiled. She was never one to mind.

Shake it off. Just shake it off... like you could never.
And instead of consuming beverage tonight I take a long hard drink of thought.
And it fills me... up up up and away.
And I realize how far away I got... from myself and from what truly defines me:
And it's not...
It's not the lack of discipline I learned on the road.
It's not chaos and debauchery.
Cheap sex dreams with women or the cheap thrills I'd get from making you sigh.

And now I am ready... to get back to me... and leave this all behind...

Fear Makes Me Slow

I am impossible.
Impossible to love.
Impossible to love "too much" or "enough" to actually show up.

I make it difficult. I am difficult.
It's difficult to see through this smog that has collected around my face.
Masking me from a world of vulnerability.
Making me slow. With caution. No, with ignorance.
It's hard to be knowledgeable when you can't see a damn thing.

And I blow dry my hair straight and shiny.
And I spray on, lay on... more aqua net... more nonsense.

I have my eggs in about 14 different baskets, 6 states, a couple socks, and one sits shiny behind a toilet in a Philly apartment I once occupied. I am spread out. I am all over the place.

I am ruining this on purpose.
I am doing this on purpose.
I could just as easily become a collection agent.

But my foot has been out the door for months on end... and the months turn to a year and still, my foot is there... and it's tired.

And I know.
I know I am ruining this on purpose.
And I realize...
That finally I don't want to.

It's just this habitual mouth.
The habit of safety in offensive words and abrasive ideas.
It's wrapped tightly around me... a blanket of steal scraps and fishing line...
And I cannot breath.
And I am so scared of the cold that might come if I take a breath full enough to snap out of this.

And I scream and scream and scream - You cannot hurt me, I will hurt you first(!)
So why am I the one who's crying?
Why does fear makes me so slow to realize?
I am hurting myself.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Today is the day I start collecting the many pieces of myself I have allowed to get away from me... or have too easily given away to strangers... past lovers... and the undeserving. Today is the day I get to the root of my own bullshit and allow myself to feel the discomfort of not knowing, not being protected, and being powerless to hurt someone else with my self-made jagged edges. File me down. File me away.

Walk Away

When did you curl up and die inside yourself?
Was your death at my hand?
I remember something so different.
I should walk away at the sight of beauty...
I should have walked away.

Weakness -in- Connecting

This is where I'll sink my heels into the ground and dig my nails into your chest
My roots are pushing deep down in
My roots are growing weak....


....and thin

I am not what I once was.

I am not what I once was.
I am grateful. I regret.
I am a walking talking skipping record...
again and again these words come and go.
And just like most things...
when they go they are gone.
Nothing to you. My words. The anger.
"It will be different" "It will get better"
No more ranting replies from me... just a repeated question...
over and over and over and over again.
WHEN?

Five years is a pretty long investment.
But still I question who has done the most investing.
It's a really selfish question and I almost always hate myself for asking.
But fuck you. Seriously. We both know the answer.
We both wish we didn't and so there's not much left to do.
(except perhaps) Repeat. (and we do)

You say "I love you" and I say "I'm sorry but your loves just not working."
Because you're not working... and I always am.
You see how that doesn't work?

And I do love you but I am self-battered and always on the verge...
of psychotic break.
Broken like your promises... and I know it's my own god damn fault(!)
If I were the woman you destroyed, post-damage
...you might listen again and mean the things you say.
But I mean nothing. My words fall on deaf ears. And the more they fall the more cruel they become... and I am not what I once was.
I was my greatest sacrifice...
To your alter of lies and rehearsed regret.

And you tell me I can't leave you... and I think, maybe there's only one way out.

awake at noon

I am awake as you still sleep in a bed haunted by my being not being there...
How long have I been gone?
When will I return?

when the unwanted wants

Wanting just gets in the way... no time for distractions now...
Time to succeed in success. Time to fight the feeling to feel.
I might die while I'm out there on the road...
But please know this: everything thought of you - was not a wasted thought.