Leave it alone, let it bleed
On this marble column
named after you.

The sky reeks of solemn
tears you shed. No one even
bothers with it anymore.

Do you think everyone believes in
you petty ways? You create
the pity I feel for all.

Cry, whimper- O! SOB! Yes,
admit it, you get a bloody high...

Shut off, slack off.
You give it your best try
Take a rest, take a nice cough
To release another happy lie.

You know, I know.
There is no satisfaction
In this. No show? Oh no.
Here's an attraction

To keep you here.
Stay in bed, lie awake.
Clear your mind and peer.
Just in case.

Another day, another complaint. Dear sir,
Take a number while I wait
On the train (to this new way)
Of thinking. Does it seem that
I am
In the way? Oh, I have that
Ability, bear with
Me while I go away.
Average waiting time is less
Than one year; sometimes
You won't get even this
Near
To me. But congratulations!
For this, you get,
For one night- nothing at all
That is worth your
While!
My my, you made the
End of the game.
Bring out the wine
And scream Hooray boorishly-

Take a number; the
Train hasn't come.
Get something else
And make a sum.

Bound with a crimson sash.
Looking through a clear vase
That distorts like a
Cataract.

Swimming past schools
And brats.

Bound to your hip.
Tied with a rose scratch.
Never to part.
Even if I tried.

There's some places in this town that the officer's just crave to be in. I can't blame them for doing whatever they do to get a turn just to look at those areas. It's almost like an addiction that has them chained. If they can't get a glimpse, then withdrawal acts up and they're left doing that damn jive shakin'. If they do, they get cocky and sassy to the inhabitants. Either way, those officers are some sick sons o' bitches...

There's a cafe near the edge of the area where officer's get their hit. It's placed under a dingy quarter of town that is currently being swamped by rich folks. I still can't see why they want to buy land here. Just like them to buy up everything and turn them into townhouses or penthouses or whatever they do with places nowadays. Go down the street and see if the back in empty. You don't go in if it's full, too many people will notice you. If it's empty, go stroll on in and order a cup. Then sit and wait for the other people to join you.

And while your waiting, why don't you order something to munch on. Those people take an awful long time to get there. I order a croissant and eat it slowly until they walk in. Drink slowly, the stomach is a force to be kind to. Be a ruthless asshole, and don't come crying when you get acid reflux or whatever it tries to give you. Is it called karma? I have no clue. It takes an average of 15 minutes for the rest to come on in. If you get bored, too bad. If you suddenly decide to get up, go to the door, and grab a newspaper or two, you're automatically labeled an oddball. No one suddenly has the urge, you must have it when you arrive inside! Sit and bear it, I guess...

The first one comes in. I won't give you a clue about this one, because this one is just...well, evil to the bone. He may not know it, and the rest might not know it, but I know it. The way he walks and stands just reeks of something sinister. Like he's gonna rob the place. Or suddenly bring out a gun and start shooting aimlessly until someone gets shot and he stops to see if anyone else will be the hero. He gives off an air of just being all-knowing, but it's a show for everyone. Everyone is unable to detect things, nowadays. The second one is an optimistic bitch. You know the type- the whole "Ooo! Look at me! I recycle and use good manners so that some day my future crap spawn will have a better Earth!" God, I wish I can strangle her sometimes... The third one is nuts. Not evil nuts, but is just paranoid nuts. Talks about how the world is now in the power of Big Brother and how America is the worst country in the world and shit like that...

The evil one sits right by me. Always has, by ritual for him. Man has OCD, and it's crazy as hell. He can touch things- and he don't mind that at all-, but it's more of a thought kind of OCD, if there is one. Optimism sits next to paranoid nut; who in turn, is right by me. I never join in the conversation, but here's how it always ends up-

Evil: Nice weather.

Waif,
and oh-so delicate, I run into,
I shoo
away those open sores.

I see
nothing at all in my self-haze;
glaze
is masking me from what I tore.

I can't
find the perfect words to fit
into the slit
in that broken chest of yours.

Anything with chocolate *yummy!*

Makes me see myself in a
different angle. I see nothing
in your face that makes me smile.
Could I sense it coming?

There was a crisp color that was
the sky in your gaze that I used to see.
There is now a dull color that makes
me see you childishly bleed.

(I can't remember when this was written...probably around late July of '08)

Probably the word 'Mommy'

Like a kitten, batting at a ball of yarn
with your tender paws,
there is nothing you think you cannot do.

Like a lioness, protecting
what is hers by law,
there is nothing you won't protect.

Like a human, wasting away
at the sight of power,
there is much you want to conquer.

Like a child, envying
one another,
there is everything, but never nothing.

Like yourself, staring
aimlessly at the world,
I seem to have come to a stop.

BABY GOATS.

It's not the nap times or the cookies you got when you did something good (because cookies are just 1.00 usually if you buy them at 7-11); it's being innocent in the world and not caring about anything.

No one really matters, just like they said. No one should have to be listed because they know they're already to blame. And maybe they feel guilty because they've fucked up so many times and they just use their anger about that to make others feel little. Arrogant bastards.
And what about those who were belittled? Should they be saved?
No.
Because some are to blame. Some are to blame because they brought it on themselves and they should be apprehended for that behavior. They should be set on fire if they deserved it; they should be stalked if they did the same thing to someone else who had no right reason to.
of course, it's not like i need to be saved. i've done my share of being a hypocrite and being an annoyance. and frankly, i'm disgusted with myself for it. i hope i get what is deserved from me soon someday. i hope i can be truly cured for once and be left alone with my troubling thoughts for no one to hear. i hope someone can just let me be for once and not critisize me for it. but when is that going happen, then....
Some are just pure evil. They can be so evil. I can barely remember what life was like before I knew this. I hate this, I wish I was younger once more and not prone to being so emotional. I should not be like this. I am weak, pitiful; I am like somebody I once was and I've failed once more...
They ought to be wiped off somehow, but not brutally. And because this cannot work, it cannot become true. It's a sad truth we must drink sometime in our life-
Except I don't want to drink it, it is too bitter-
And we must accept. No matter how we try to escape from drinking it, it finds us.
I want to drown. Can one drown from nothing...
I hope, somewhere, those bastards are getting their just desserts. Because they have no right at all to breathe in my opinion. They have no right to throw you away or to 'be funny' for no goddamn, motherfucking reason at all. They should be ashamed, put on a pike and burned to death with no mercy. Let's go medieval on them, no survivors or anything at all because who needs them? No one needs them. They're all to blame.

I know who did it but I'm too afraid to tell who...

When I just stared all I ever saw was a girl with a gas mask. She insisted that everything should be black, so it was to be black. She spewed noxious gas when she snarled; she would spill acid when I tried to say my input, drawing me closer and closer to a corner with my head in between my legs. She rampaged, on and on until she locked herself in behind the door. She would never come out for anything, not even for the bathroom.

One day, she made me into the person I am today.

She was screaming once more, her gas mask still intact. I always wondered how she looked. I had seen her back when I was smaller, but that was a long time ago. I didn't know if she still had brown eyes, maybe they had turned to red with resentment. I was sitting in my corner, head propped on my knees and staring at the scene. She was doing what she did best- putting others down. A tall, shadowy figure started crying, burying her head in her hands and just bawling. She yelled and yelled some more, the response was all the same. Another figure began yelling back and the attention was moved. I stood up, looking at the shadowy figure. One step, two steps, three steps. I was there and I opened my arms to embrace her. It was something I had learned when I was a child. If someone was in need of comfort, you hugged them.

Gas mask roared at me.

She is not your mother. She is not our mother. She is no one. She is an interloper. You've been brainwashed, get away. She's evil. She's Big Brother. Get away.

I stood frozen. She continued.

She is evil. She is not your mother. She is someone else. Get away, are you deaf? Get away. Run. Run away and ignore her. She is nothing to you. You are nothing to her. That's how much she thinks of you. Get away. She wants to destroy you. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER.

So I did.

And she was pleased, seeing her cry even more.

And I ran off, off to my room and locking the door frantically. The screaming was still able to be heard. I cranked the stereo up, but I could still hear it. I played the radio, but I could still hear it. I buried my head in the corner, with pillows and sheets, but it was audible.

And something happened.

I just tuned it out. I stared dumbly at the wall and it disappeared. I looked on and on until I was not aware that it was well past midnight. I was in my own little world, where nothing could hurt me, where Gas Mask could not reach me.

I slunk into bed and became numb.

Bonjour.

Pourquoi est le ciel bleu? C'est bleu parce que le ciel est bleu. Vous le parlez couramment? Un peu. Aimez-vous ici? Oui, il est tres spacieux. Que faites-vous? Rien. Comment allez-vous? Triste et fatiguee. Pourquoi vous avez mis deux 'E''s? Je suis une fille. Oh, et votre nom? Meh. Aimez-vous quelqu'un? Je ne sais pas. Je pense que vous recherchez etrange. C'est vrai. Merci. Adieu.

La langue francais est une belle langue. Elle est tres difficile a maitriser. Je suis heureux de la connaitre.

Grabbing, clutching for life,
he seeks what is not there.

Empty, he'll fully snare
anything that moves. A knife

Ends everything; a rapid halt.
You lurk everywhere,

Like a hawk.

Expansive are your moods, as
flighty as a bird; I cannot
grasp it. You soar up, up

Up! Such mighty wings you
show. How I envy that.

I fly, the trees cannot hold me back
from my desires. Sprouted are the wings
that tempt me to flutter; I happen to lack
the courage other I know have oozing from
them. Perhaps I can even make it, but can't.

I croon, too busy living in my mind, a sick shack.
Voice too hoarse, calling for a person who sings
nothing but cal. My mind shakes, quivers for it to come.
Anything passes. Eyes, what silly things to be!
They've seen so much for me; they wish to take it back.

I lay, motionless for all that pass. They attack
without mercy, hands all over. They swing
past my face, missing but always striking
with mad fury. What did I do? All I know is misery.
The stitches are coming undone.

Makes me feel infinite, a love
child that needs no place to call
home. Disguises like a loving glove

And not only does it warm, most of
all, it releases the mind. Puts all
of the urges in check, like a maid, proud of

The things she does. Consists of
the things I detest. Gets me oh so far
from my fears; drive me away, rid of

Many things that you seek unfit, above
there's stars that bright up our scars;
Get away, it's time to let go of-

It makes me feel infinite, a love child that needs no place to call home.

just make me sick.
With your airs and charms that make me feel like I'm the stupid little girl I am. I can't stand to see you anymore. Your face brings me heavy rains that bombard me all over again. I think I'll enclose myself from you again, just for old time's sake.

Except the last time I did that-

I seemed to be haunted by your shadowy hand.