Tuesday, September 2, 2008
hello, old friend.
11:30 PM
has been: browsing through old pages of old/new diaries and bits of paper I stuffed into journals but never really meant to keep.
this is an intrinsically private post patched together with bits and pieces of what I was/have been/am/should have been(?)
so if you don't feel that you're up to it
then don't read it in the first place.
you never know- i might be talking about you.
and you never know- i might not have mentioned you at all.
and you'll never know- i might have made it all up so you could have a good read and so I could have a good laugh.
-----
I.
so tired I feel like I'm on meds
crawl into bed and pull the silence in after me
pretty pretty you have such sad eyes
if I am not making sense
you should know I am drunk on loneliness and you
are not you should thank your lucky stars
II.
i saw my icelandic prince again today
arrogant glaciered features nordic guise
not a chance between us and yet I
move around him with magicked eyes
III.
funny how it hasn't hurt, all this while
so maybe I disagree with dr. carlisle cullen
a clean break doesn't heal easily. (and I of all people should know)
drag it out and do it gently and slowly and you'll
hardly realize you're drifting apart
and by the time you do, your continents will already be far, far apart,
and the seawater will be sloshing around your ankles
IV.
hate you
never want to talk to you again
don't even bother trying
take your sullen snivelling face to someone else's scrapyard
come round here
and i'll slam the door in your face
hate you no. two
if we can't be friends then we sure as hell can't be lovers
you're dirt ugly inside outside with no saving grace
take your little twisted stories and your bad poetry
find some other girl to back up against the wall
both of you are dirt under my shoe
don't talk
i won't listen.
V.
salvation or spells crosses or stakes
and always i am torn
why the lure of magick, dark eyes? will you never
stop treading the dust-grey threshold
will you never
learn?
there is a darkness in me
and always i am fighting.
VI.
the next time you talk to me
the next time you try to
psycho-analyze demoralize t-t-terrorize me
i'll be waiting.
oh, i'll be ready.
you've been great inspiration for bad poetry
but that's all you've been good for
i'll get famous off our tabloid tragedy
I'll earn a million and then a little more.
VII.
sing me something electric
set me ablaze and let me dance let me burn
make me scream make me laugh
oh, lead me a merry dance
I will follow (I assure you), and gladly
i would do anything to feel alive.
make me.
make me feel.
make me feel alive.------
if i work up the nerve i'll put in a little more.
this is spelt c-a-t-h-a-r-s-i-s and an easier way of saying it is that this is therapy for me because i've been a thousand different people and this is my way of letting a few of them have a name.