Even as my enemy, yell for my name in a time of distress, and I will come and rescue you. I guarantee your first impressions of me will determine whether you want to know me at all, but they're usually wrong. So, first find out for yourself if you're wasting your time on me. I'm a very cheerful person that can either make your day or annoy the hell out of you. I can also be rude, but I take it back… Sometimes. I worry alot, so excuse me if you find me venting to you randomly. I speak my mind to people that I'm not intimidated by. I'm a diverse person and open to basic things, so don't judge me because I might surprise you. Don't fit me into your categories because I am my own person and I put whatever I like together, no one seems to understand it which makes them truly unoriginal. I tend to get hurt alot, but then again I get praised as well. I'm not like most girls.
DISSECTION I want to get inside you, read you, rip your veins apart. Count the bruises within, and memorize every scar that’s left its mark upon you. I need to push you away and then later slowly pull you back; just to see if you are willing to both loose and win. I want you to feel uncomfortable as I ask you what you're thinking at random; it’s the bewildered eyes that satisfy me.
Quiet people;
I adore you; I will observe you; while being anonymously eager to make you scream.
Outgoing ones; I envy your sense of conformity, but i have every notion to sew your mouth shut to help you appreciate the silence you are too busy to ever hear. I like the way people are; but i like even more playing with their faults; messing with their fears; altering their mind frame so much, that they can be comfortable in any skin, not just their own.
ANATOMY I wish I knew what it meant to be me. The more i think about it, the greater my headache burns. With my inner complexity, I suppose you can describe me as a ball of rubber bands. Twisted; tangled. All my thoughts are intertwined with every part of me. I don't have a solid core. I'm filled with gaps and holes throughout the course of my body.
SURGERY Sweetie, If you and I happen to lock eyes as we walk about on this earth's crust; I promise you, you mean something to me. I see you wrapped in your individual linen; I just want you to know, you look like the
sun. You are bright and I pray that you would follow me forever. If not, I won’t hesitate to follow you. When I people observe; literally daily, I can’t help but yearn for the passersby. If I could, I would gently wrap you in my hands and place you safely in my pocket. You will be mine and I will be yours. Attached at the hip, only separated by a thin piece of cloth. You’ll understand me as I will understand you. For we know nothing of each other to judge. I hope you won’t flee; run from me. I must admit unfamiliar confrontation; engaging in nervous conversation; unfamiliar attraction; scares me, but I assure you, we will make the best of our time. I like the ghost in your voice, hiding every bad event; decision; thought; in your past you’ve ever had. Cute. Your shadow looks perfect under you; it mimics your hips perfectly; whether they are curvy or straight; they are beautiful. You are beautiful. You have caught my attention. Now...I pray that I have yours. You take it from here . . .
MAIN First words and first steps. Mine were behind closed doors... without credit. It's funny... the way that you can clean yourself up and still be treated as if you are soiled. Right now, I'm the straight line that some keep trying to smudge. Everything to them comes down to the decimal point. My change is just something between the cushions in their eyes. Sometimes I feel like the new haircut that goes unnoticed... the new shirt that gives you confidence yet only draws ridicule. Believe me when I say that I've tried to die. My curse is this word "forever" that is written all over me. My failure isn't in the passions that I have, but in my lack of control of them. I've been fighting demons alone and I'm ok with that. I have comebacks for miles.
"You're not dead yet. That's just how you feel it’s good to feel pain because it means you’re still alive." Excuses are just fireworks that never went off... and that never will again. Maybe all of this has only been the medicine talking. Or maybe it's just the only thing I have left in these fingers. It's all the same as the world spins and I find myself chasing consciousness. I'm somewhere deep inside all of this mess. Just promise to keep chiseling away. Forget the oxygen, pump forgiveness into the
darkness.
INSANITY For so long I have lived in world of unrelenting pain and everlasting hell. For awhile I have taken punishment, physical and mental, whatever it may be it has brought me to this point. I have shown compassion, but received none. I have wanted to be loved but have never been so fortunate. Lately now I have wanted to feel sorry for people but I can show no feelings toward them, for now i have no love, have no compassion, I am empty, I have no soul, no heart, I am hollow. most of the dark, dismal cloud of depression hung over my head. It has struck me with pressuring winds, raindrops of sorrow and lightning bolts of unforgiving hatred. For now the slightest insult, the slightest act of stupidity can send my blood boiling to the point where I lose control and for a moment forget who I am. For so long has this infectious and unhealthy frame of mind haunted me. Thoughts of painful history sliced through my mind and spirit like steel-edged dreams, slashing at every strand of sanity I have. I have lived in the unyielding world of suffering and For so long I have felt so alone.
DETRACTION It’s funny how very simple and intricate illusions can be. I don't ever want to know where the blades go, or how the assistant steps out unharmed. If the world came to an end, I'd rather stay blindfolded than open my eyes. Small amounts of "genuine" have dressed themselves in black and invaded the corners of my lips. Pulling them towards the stars and convincing them to spend the night. My stomach turns when you're near but only in the best directions. I'm faking everything, just to look like more of a loser because that's all I've ever known. These knuckles are bruised from fights that never happened except in my head. I was looking for comfort in all the wrong places, steel wool instead of silk. My greatest flaw is my obsession with feeling sorry for myself... no wait... my greatest flaw is my inherent need to document it. If you read between the lines, you'd realize I don't mean half of what I say, and everything that I don't. It's hard to be completely honest, when the world revolves around how well you can lie. I can manipulate people without realizing it, if only to get myself out of a jam. Bending (over) the truth has become a habit. I'm losing my sight from staring at keyboards in the dark, trying to be everything to everyone, and nothing to myself.
FORGIVNESS My life of darkness, my living nightmare I know shall never end. It will haunt my every moment of everyday hoping to sooner or later send me over the edge. How will I be able to live a normal life with a monster of this caliber haunting every waking moment of every day, slashing through my strands of sanity that I hold so dear? I have released myself from deaths iron grip once before but I may not have the strength to accomplish that again. Will no one help me? I am as a junkie would be. Caught under the bridge of life, injecting the drug of happiness as often as I could get a hold of it, to feel that sensation for a brief moment. Only to have it vanish and feel as though it had never come, making me crave it more. At times I feel as though death is the only way out and I accept it as my ticket to freedom even thought I fear it the most of all. Wanting what I fear is just more proof that this life of hatred, suffering, depression and heartache has taken such a toll on my feeble body, my withered soul and my shattered heart. It has beaten me down into what I could now be classified as a broken heap of worthless nothing. I pray for the day when that light of guidance shines upon me and welcomes me with open arms to a world of friendship and love. But will I find that light? Will I be so fortunate? Will that day finally come? Only Time Will Tell.
ESSENSE It's okay to have butterflies in your stomach. Just get them to fly in formation.
Taking ink in a massive dose and watching as blank pages turn black while my hand and head double team my heart.
The inside of my head feels foggy like a London winter, but without all of the class and dignity. Nobody gets how my head feels when I lay sideways on the pillow.
We are becoming who we are meant to be. We are becoming who we were.
Time passes like bottles between thoughts. Letting myself just float.... to just feel ok. Being happy doesn't mean you are unauthentic. Breathing life is alright... in doses you know.
ISOLATED Eyes locked on the curb and blades of grass that sneak between the cracks. Picking myself apart. The only life I feel is in my right hand, and that's weird, because its linked with yours. I've been letting my mind get the best of us all, friends included, and it can be such a weapon of destruction.
WakingUpInGuilt 
I'm currently trying to figure out how to untangle myself of the expectations that I have casted.
Fingers going at the rate of my thoughts. I've been shedding tears in nightmares the past few nights. Dreaming everyone close to me away. I think that I only apply this pressure to myself because that's how you are supposed to handle an open wound. Still trying to convince them all to swallow reality and belch the truth. That's my cure. This year everyone exchanged guilt for the holidays. It's always "give
love, make
blood" when they're around. I need to choose between telling you the truth or letting you get what you deserve.
{Written by 1CEB0X and H0LLYW00D HER0. Copyright H0LLYW00D HER0 2009.}
