New Blog?

probably not, but if anyone is interested, I don't use this blog anymore. I use www.stormiesglasses.tumblr.com .... so yeah... but its more raw and unedited... so don't be alarmed...

Fruit

I have always been a fan of fruits
peaches, plums, and pineapples
and the kind that walk around in boots

and if theres something I can't find
its the peace to ease my mind
and tranquility that used to be mine

hid somewhere under a rock
when where I lost my hand in vietnam
hid somewhere under a hat
of a balding grey, old man

I have always been a fan of vegetables
cucumbers and tomatoes
and the kind you pity in hospitals
.....ahjaboo

and if theres something I can't find
its the peace to ease my mind
and tranquility that used to be mine

hid somewhere under a rock
when where I lost my hand in vietnam
hid somewhere under a hat
of a balding grey, old man

but I don't eat much anymore
I lost my appetite when sanity when out the door
and now all of these halucins and laughs and crys
it all depends what you call crazy and what you call lies

bananas, apples, peaches and pears
kiwis and strawberries (x4)

Hallelujah

Hallelujah is a choice.
Listen kid, you'll die deciding whether or not to live
So I'll throw off these bandages, or tighten them tight
purple arms, purple hands and knuckles so white
and there's a beautiful sunset tonight.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
I opened the wooden door, tired of being beaten on
hoping for some ray of sunshine to enter this dark dark heart
and behold! not only came a ray, but ten million suns circling me.
Hallelujah. Hallelujah.
I scream in rage, but its okay because I don't need to hide it anymore.
I am cleansing, cleansing, detoxifying my soul.
And with these ungodly exhortations. Standing on a table snot-nosed and bawling.
I know that I have just witnessed the first true Hallelujah of many more.
Hallelujah. Hallelujah.

I wish

I wish.... that my skin didn't feel like molasses.
I wish I was her. Her from your past. The pretty one.
The funny one. The smart one.

I wish.... My food didn't taste like watered pasta.
I wish I wasn't me. The bland one. The homely one.
The one filled with teen angst.

I wish.... I didn't feel like I was falling.
I wish I could stand and not feel like I was coping.
Then I fall. Then I fall. And its dark.

I wish.... For nothing. Because in everything I wish,
I know that I am sliding further from reality. Into
the world I have created.


Into the world in which I don't have to wish. I just am.

She sits there for hours, back against the wall. so withdrawn. her head against the sink and her feet against the porcelain of that controlling needy friend. Her mind is like a colorful fruit basket but no one can see its hues because she locks herself away. her soul has been abused and she feels that she's no use and thinks her thoughts wreak of rotten fruit.

She lays with him sometimes and asks him, "what do I have to do... to live in you... to be like you." but no matter what he says she just likes to lay in bed and writhe in her pain and mope in disdain. She would kill herself if it meant there would be a life to regain, but there's no surprise she knows that she can no longer hide her soul, so cold, as it shivers and shakes its been raped and her abuse can no longer hide in her.

The cold porcelain beckons her. Her tummy made of rubber shudders. Her gums are rotten and all logic goes forgotten. She cries more often than not these days and she prays for something to relieve all this pain so she can tame all the fire in her burden of belly in her veins. Her rainbow brain. All she craves is a release, an opium-atic cure. And so she leans forward because old habits die hard.

She Purges.

Oh what a relief! He can no longer live in me! He can no longer hide and take me and rape me, I finally am free! She feels glee. She feels peace. She feels what even he cannot give her. Her eyes are red. All of the blood has now gone to her head, or maybe she's just drunk on her own self-loathe her hate can no longer sustain her. She longs with her heart just to be her own savior.

I don't know if you'll ever write me back
but I've put in a river of pen in this
sea foam green log for you

If you ever call my name,
I'd hike up my skirt, lace up my boots
and tramp through swamps to be with you

I don't know if you'll understand these words to you
I tend to talk but be quite taciturn
but my rambling somewhat satisfies the burn

If you ever called my name,
I'd swim through a sea of saltly sea water
Just to answer you

And if you ever touched my face
in the quietness under the blanket
I think I'd die

There'd be too much to live for

Lately

A walking ghost
Grass grows through my feet
as if I'm in a dream
but I feel more alive
than I've felt in a while

Some day I'll find the words to say
but my heart beats in my throat
my brains all fuzzy and I can't think
So I'll just float

I'll just choke on the muscle in my throat

In my throat

Until my eyes dilate
Till my hands turn blue
Till my ears fill with bees
and rubber bands squeeze my knees

And our wrists intertwine
and our throats in knots
and these bees in my ears
waltzing out my thoughts

So I'll just float
I'll just choke
On this muscle in my throat