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| Head |
| 08.11.05 (2:22 pm) [edit] |
Reminisce, I have all night,
Of how your head, I held so tight,
Between my legs, your gentle kiss,
Your tongue so warm upon my clit.
My fingers in your hair I ran,
As you licked until I could not stand,
My legs spread wide, for you to taste,
The wetness that my pussy makes.
Shivering, shaking, I came undone,
Upon your face so hard I'd come.
And spill myself upon your chin,
And yet you'd lick it still again.
Then bring your lips to me so wet,
I'd taste myself as our kisses met.
All night these thoughts I see in bed,
And touch myself as I miss your head.
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| To The Men In My Life |
| 04.08.05 (7:29 am) [edit] |
Jonathan,
I'm tired of being last on your list of priorities. I'm tired of never having a place in your decisions. It's time I started worrying about my own damn self like you do and do what's best for me. I'm tired of being accused of being selfish when I share everything I have with you, and try to share more but you won't let me. I'm tired of living in this safehouse. I'm tired of you not caring for my struggles while I'm here trying to have more with you and your off playing college kid. You have no intentions of even making that first step, but you have every intention of practically living here and having all the sex with me I'll let you,,, but your not getting this milk for free anymore. Go on and find whatever the hell it is you are looking for and stop wasting my life. I hope you find someone who will make you happy. And I hope they are in Murfreesboro. And from now on I'm going to worry about what makes me happy.
Tom,
I'm tired of your judging me and persecuting me. You always want me until you have me and then you drop me the first chance you get. I'm tired of being everything you want one day and then someone you can't live with the next. and I'm sick and tired of you coming into my life and reeking havok, playing mind games, messing with my emotions, and then skipping off on your merry little way until you get bored and decide to play with me a little more. And I'm tired of loving you no matter what you do to me...
My 3 boys,
I'm sorry I've put so much energy and time into my relationships, worrying about love, and all along your growing up under my noses. I'm tired of missing it because I'm so stressed out about some guy who can never give me the love and acceptance that you three do. I'm sorry that all this time I've spent on looking for love, I had it right here with you, and neglected it. I'm sorry I've looked for someone to complete me and love me unconditionally when all this time you do. I'm sorry and I see what I have done.
God,
Please forgive me for all my wrong doings. Please forgive me for not reallizing happiness begins with you and so does all other things. Please forgive me for my past that everyone else seems to keep reminding me of, and please help me to forget it and be a better person. God, please let me reallize that I am not alone. And please forgive me for neglecting you.
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| .:SafeHouse:. |
| 04.01.05 (6:09 pm) [edit] |
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Coldness entraps my ears
To silence of the safehouse.
Quietly rocking to the humming,
Humming that song of the broken heart.
So how do you protect
What has already been broken ?
And how do you keep that which
Has already been stolen?
And which way to find
That which is lost?
Alone in the quiet
Safe from the outside intrusion,
Safe from all that can harm,
Secretly listening for that knock,,,
That knock that you so dread and so long for.
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| Hot Water |
| 03.20.05 (9:01 am) [edit] |
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A simple gesture,
Gliding the sharp instrument across your skin.
Your hand guiding mine,
Instructing me,
As an artist teaches his apprentice.
Varied brush strokes...
Trusting me with the razor sharp tool upon your neck.
Hot water...
... I remember....
Daydreaming in the steam.
My mind wonders to the color red
And the force of the blade into your flesh.
... back to reallity...
and wet skin...
I run my fingers across your warm wet skin,
To make sure I haven't missed a spot.
My mouth waters at the memory of the taste of your blood.
I can almost smell it....
And I cannot resist the urge to place a kiss upon you.
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| Mental Masturbation |
| 03.19.05 (6:17 pm) [edit] |
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Mental masturbation and emotional ejaculation,
The warm fluid silky smooth.
Caressing the deepest follicles of my sanity,
Tantallizing the hardened membrane of my brain.
Softly rolling off your tongue,
Those sensual words of word.
Sending my thoughts and ideologies
Into full spasms of exctacy.
Collapsing into a state of morbid rest,
Content and satisfied in my mental orgasms,
I sleep.
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| Emily's Ghost |
| 02.13.05 (6:42 pm) [edit] |
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In a stiffened state of morbid bliss,
I felt your cold immortal kiss,
Across the years and from the grave,
Your tales of death, my heart did sway.
A written clue as to who was you,
And how I felt as though I knew.
Indeed you knew that I would come,
And left your words from the beyond,
To be your voice, that all would hear,
Your singing soul, which sings so dear.
Oh, how I wish that I could kiss
Those hands in all their perfectness,
Which spilt those words which touch my heart,
And rendered this immortal art.
So in my dreams I hear you sing,
Of death, of life,,, of loving things.
Until reluctantly awoke,
And so of your words, I then wrote,
Of how your life has touched my soul,
And of the words that your ghost spoke.
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| Haunting Regret |
| 01.29.05 (6:04 pm) [edit] |
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I saw him in a moment.
Enchanting dark eyes,
With his innocent smile.
And his soul spoke to me...
Through his deep eyes,
An expression beckoned me...
"Save Me"...
And that evil voice within my ear,
Spoke so clear...
"Take Him"...
...And I wanted to...
To take him and have him,
To the point of obsession.
I wanted this dark prince,
To call him my own,
For all to have known.
Knowing full well of my dark intent.
Guilt and pain full in my chest.
Agony and grief,,,
I don't want to lose him.
I wish to love him completely,
Yet I turn away,
That he would be saved.
Guilt swallows me up,
Deep into that deep sea of regret.
I have become evil.
I have wronged him.
I have wronged her.
And I have wronged the helpless,
The innocent bystanders unaware.
Unaware that evil has touched their life.
But soon they will,,,
And I shall be revealed.
Seen for the loathsome creature
That I am.
And perhaps I shall feel peace.
Peace in that I am seen,
The vile corupt being that I am,
No longer able to hide,
No longer able to hurt anyone.
But until then,
I shall remain haunted by my regret.
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| .:Nonexistent:. |
| 01.23.05 (9:42 am) [edit] |
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I know he's there, waiting for me.
Just as he has always been.
Watching me from a distance,
Evaluating me until he decides to take me.
Laughing that deep chaotic laugh,
As he finds humor in the things I find important.
Trivial things to him, that are only a temporary
Amusement, but life to me.
A game piece I have become.
Entertaining and disposable.
And it sickens and angers me altogether,
That I have become so insignificant so suddenly.
But I am...
And the day will come that I am of no use any longer.
The day will come that he has tired from his preoccupation with me, and I am dismissed into darkness.
Along with the others.
Into eternity and nothingness.
Waiting my turn here, knowing that each day
Is just one more day closer to the end,
And all that has led up to this point in my life,
Means absolutely nothing.
My memories, my love, my passions, my thoughts, all of my theologies and observations on this life will pass into darkness with me, becoming nothing.
Nonexitent...
I will be nonexistent..
But he will continue his infatuations elsewhere and always remain...
...To play the game.
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| Last Poetic Kiss |
| 01.20.05 (4:23 pm) [edit] |
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Enchanting verb upon lips,
Can kill you with a single kiss...
Or give you life if that's her choice,
Her beautiful poetic voice.
Calming, soothing or a gasp,
Depending how you cross her path.
A bewitching spell to reel you in,
And keep you coming back again.
And when you leave you will admit,
You need that last poetic kiss....
~Smile~
hugs and kisses
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| Happy New Year |
| 01.01.05 (5:24 pm) [edit] |
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It seems that here I am once more,,
At the beginning and the end.
And I gaze upon the glow of past and future.
An odd place to be...
Wouldn't you think?
Yet here I am, and Time is an inescapable persuer.
Ticking away, or more so slipping away.
As it unravels in front of me, aparitions of a sort of dream.
Dream... why is it that I stay in this sense?
Why can I not escape it?
Knowing it slips and yet I cannot grasp it.
Passing continuously as a stream.
I could place my foot into the water and feel it rush between my toes.
I could stand here and watch it flow on forever.
Floating by, I feel a false sense of safety.
Pretending I am safe from drowning in it
As long as I stay on shore.
Knowing well that I am convincing myself
My lungs are not already filled with water.
As I float downstream with all the others.
Floating away to be deposited into something bigger
Somewhere between here and the end.
As my last end diminishes out of sight,
I feel numb, sick and tired of endings and beginnings.
Waiting for that stop sign at the end of a road
That never ends.
No turn, no passing, no rest areas...
But eventually it will start all over again...
Another beginning...
Torturing circle.
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| .:The Sacrifice:. |
| 12.05.04 (7:40 pm) [edit] |
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I have spent what seems like an Eternity,
Waiting to be found.
In a single instant, I am lost again.
Loosing myself so that I may be found.
The blade is hot, yet it sooths not my wounds.
Taking the knife to carve a perfect heart shape
Upon my chest.
The metal feels soothing to the pain.
The bloodloss brings relief.
Taking the bloody organ that pumps full with the life,
That I have grown so to hate.
With the hot blade, I divide it into two,
And watch the warm red liquid flow out into the cold,
Freezing and turning black,
Until the ice has covered the entire sacrifice,
Breaking and shattering into a million tiny ashy particles.
Pain and agony cover me,
And I die.
Falling into a dream.
The stiff organ between my legs.
Skin on skin.
Sweat and muffled noises.
I see us...
It's me,,, or it was me,,, when I was me.
Lips pressed against lips.
I can remember breathing you in.
I am drifting away now,
Falling even deeper into death,
Roses, candles, graveyards, and laughter,
Your reflection in my reflection,
Destracts my attention and I feel alive again.
Falling further into death,
Smiles, blood, touches, your hand in mine,
I lie with you doing nothing in perfect happiness,
Your arms feel as my arms,
And for the first time in forever I feel safe again.
Falling deeper into death.
All is darkness,,,
Quiet,,, Cold...
I wish I could put the two pieces back again.
To feel the warmth again...
... and I fall....
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| shattered pieces |
| 11.27.04 (5:29 pm) [edit] |
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Shattered pieces... shuffling through what used to be.
It's me,,, I think,,, at least there is something that reminds me of me,,, but not me.
a reflection... a portrait of happiness, scattered upon the dirt, barely recognizable, but remembered.
I want so to pick up a piece,,, why I don't know.. to keep a piece of myself perhaps... or maybe to slit my wrist with it, and end this journey that has took a turn toward misery.
Sacrifice... loosing everything you ever wanted, to have what you wanted, but now your not sure what you want. Twisted Irony...
That fate would throw me into the arms of someone and then not let us be together... fate's sick dementia... to hurt us?
Or was it me? I think so...
It is me who's mind is so twisted...
I don't know.. anything.
So beautiful you sit in front of me,,, everything I want, but I can't have, so I let you go.
Walking away my soul ripped apart knowing that one day you will have all that I wanted to have with you.
But some part of me is happy that you will be happy.
And I wake myself up from the dream of you. And return to reallity.
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| Obsession |
| 11.14.04 (3:09 pm) [edit] |
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I just want you utterly and completely.
To be a part of you.
To become nonexistent as if I was but am no more, but as something else... something more.
I feel as if every breath I breathe is because of you. Almost as you are that energy which gives me the strength to take it. So that in a sense, you, are that which is, and causes life for me.
To be encompassed, obessessed, consumed, and enthralled. To lie in your blood and soak every drop of its red splendor into myself and become you, or vice versa. I would so as much love to slit my wrists and have you take me into you, so that I should become you.
I am captivated, mezmerized, intrigued, and infatuated with your every detail. I smell you and I breath you in and hold that scent so that I may never know any other scent. I see you, and I find your image etched inside my mind so that when I close my eyes, you are all I see.
I look into your eyes, and I become bewitched so that I am tormented in their absence and seek helplessly for the comfort that I find in them.
I feel you, and form an addiction to your touch that without I suffer and withdraw to the point I feel I might be dying.
I love you, to the point I would live a loveless life if not a loving life in your arms. A love that would be better to be alone and in love with a memory as to be with another and longing for that which I have not. I love you entirely and all I want is to be with you and to be as obessessed with you as I can be, for as long as forever will see it.
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| .:Release:. |
| 11.14.04 (11:57 am) [edit] |
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A steady drip, I steadily slip,
Silence,,, save for the echo of each drop.
A slit wrist, against your fist,
Pray the blood not stop.
Heated hands, the burning sands,
Slow motion, the cold slips in.
Shivering, shaking, morbid lovemaking,
I see it down there,,, the end.
Falling non-stop, drip, drip, drop,
Through darkness into relief,
And Oh, so it seems, I am only a dream,
A dream in a dream of this peace.
And as I escape life's cruel cherade,
To feel the crimsoned release,
Drop upon drop, and a final stop,
Then suddenly the maddness has ceased.
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| .:Blank Paper:. |
| 11.13.04 (5:15 pm) [edit] |
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Blank paper,,,
Invisible ink leaves a blood stained trail,
... eyes always watching me,
I know you're there,,,
Probing my thoughts, reading my secrets.
Finding the hidden message,
Which lies between the lines of lies.
Writing, writing, I write and write
Filling page after page,
Notebook upon notebook,
With inkless writings of nothing about everything,
Everything about nothing,
Nothing about something,,,
Something I need to say, but refuse.
Page after page, I write,
I write and you read,,,
Monotonous repetition of my condition.
I will hide it deeper,
So far inside the book,
That you will never find it ... me...
Deeper, deeper, so deep it seems
The page is blank.
The first word seems to be the last
And the last, the first, of nothing.
It's not a riddle nor a puzzle to solve.
Just a word between words
That you should not involve.
A gate just ahead,
Seems a quick escape before I'm discovered,
Running through these words,
Spilling ink and blood on the ground,,,
It's getting dark...
... I know you are here...
Your eyes pierce through me,
I feel them watching me.
Seeing me,,, here in darkness.
The gate seems an eternity away,
And will I pass the Keepers test?
Freedom from this dark place?
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| TheMoon |
| 10.24.04 (8:53 pm) [edit] |
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The moon in all it's brightness tonight cast that ever so dark light upon my soul, a feeling of falling. To be enough? To meet the expectations of the world and all that seem to find me shortcoming and insufficient.
I curse the moon and the day I found a dream in it. I would wish it to explode and fall into us destroying all that it brings it's lying promise to. The hope of the hopeless. The dream of those who sleep not. The breath of those who are buried.
The ever so gut wrenching truth that seems to stab me in the heart over and over after convincing myself otherwise stabs me again... I'm not good enough. A personal attack upon my person.
Will I ever be,,, for anyone? It's very doubtful. I should just accept the defeat and deminish into the shadow away from the moon rays and accept that almost etched in stone reallity that I am only common and unworthy. Instead I convince myself that I am special and beautiful, lying to myself in hopes that perhaps I am found worthy to bask in moonlight with the holy. Yet I stick out like a sore thumb, an ugly blemish on a world of beautiful women.
No more... I accept what and who I am.
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| .:Meloncholy:. |
| 10.18.04 (3:14 pm) [edit] |
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Forgive me my meloncholy, love, but I am lost yet again in another rainy day. I am enchanted with heaven's water fall, and so for a time shall I stay. Bewitched with this dance so that all that is in existence from me could pass away. But soon I shall return, for soon this dance will end, then to lifes bed I will again lay. And dream of rain and thunderstorms to come, and for their comfort pray.
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| Sweetest Day |
| 10.16.04 (10:13 pm) [edit] |
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A Sweet Day in Fall, A day for lovers to celebrate and let their loved one know how significant they are to each other, and to appreciate the sweet, pure aspects of love. Take time today to tell the person you love Happy Sweetest Day.
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| Tom |
| 10.12.04 (12:31 am) [edit] |
TOM
And so for death you sit in wait,
Yet death will pass you by,
But how I pray it find you soon,
And torture you to die.
Twisted mind of a twisted soul,
loves to twist the mind of those,
For the game of illdignified love,
Is entertaining your black soul.
And so you sit and laugh at me,
With the whore with whom you sleep.
And have me doubt myself once more,
When all was true in me.
Pretending to all of good intent,
Preforming the part of a just man.
But the evil cannot pretend he's good,
For soon he slips again.
And all along the path he trips us,
In hopes his path will ease,
In hopes in some twisted sense,
A better mirrored image he see's.
But all do see his ugly self,
The lies and demented way.
Of making others feel their worse,
For to mask his hidden shame.
He is the evil one who walks,
And with demon is possessed,
And his only purpose is to hurt,
With this he is obsessed.
So wait for death or if you wish,
Seek it out and for one time...
Do the world and all of love,
The favor and just die.
I fucking hate you, I hope you die!!!
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| .:Storm:. |
| 10.09.04 (2:12 pm) [edit] |
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Here it is the midnight hour,
On the dark night of the soul.
And the storm rages.
Growing stronger and more powerful,
As I grow weaker and without.
The wind turns the pages.
The book I read,
Alone in bed,
I held my head,
Wished I were dead.
A memory of together...
A laugh, a smile, a joking remark,
Your hands upon me strong,
The scent of skin, a happy day,
To know what it felt like... "together".
.. I hear the storm rage on.
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| The Bitter Lovers |
| 10.09.04 (1:31 pm) [edit] |
The dawn brought death,
The night did fly,
And as I lie and cry for you to die,
I saw you dead.
Your pretty head,
This poem I read,
And so you said,
"Bury me deep into the night",
And so I did, with much delight,
Into the dark, cold quiet.
And covered you in rich soil,
That sooner would your body spoil,
And then began your corpse to rot,
Then fed the earth from with your plot,
To spring a rose bush from the ground,
Then cover me and pull me down,
Beneath the earth to your death bed,
To lie beside your pretty head.
I held you to my bosom near,
And read a poem for you to hear,
Upon your love I once more cried,
To join my love,,, and so I died.
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| A Literal Offense |
| 09.28.04 (1:37 pm) [edit] |
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Letter by letter, word by word, line by line, Until my inner self is spilt within these pages. ... and you mock me... This is me, here and now, a part of me, In each and every drop of this ink, .... and you belittle it... My feeling, my fear, my thoughts, Dreams, ambition, desires, all that is me, ... and you degrade it with iinsult... Perhaps in your mind poetry has messed me up. Perhaps I do live in lines of a poem. But I disagree... In my mind it is the poem that lives with me, I give it life and freedom with release, How dare you mock me... You do not have to accept me, It suffers me in the least. I would only hope to be seen for that which I am, And see you for that which you are. So why do you hide? Hiding away from me, When I am here in full view for you to persecute... Why is it,, that when you look at me,,, you don't look at me... When you look at me, you don't look at me?
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| Poetry |
| 09.27.04 (7:52 am) [edit] |
![]() =http://img39.photobucket.com/...
Ash Hopper
It's an enchanting thing to bask in moonlight.
The nights when it shines so bright
That you can see everything
In that spellbinding glow.
To dance beneath the trees,
In and out of shadows
Disappearing into darkness
Then emerging again to rejoin the stars.
The grass beneath my feet
Watching the gentle breeze
In the willow as the moon
Breaks free and is seemingly
Only just beyond its swaying branches.
Almost close enough to touch.
The air filled with scents of autum,
And in the midnight whispers
Of chirping crickets and singing tree frogs.
It feels almost like a sheltered captivity
Comforting and protecting in the silence
Away from all mortal invasion...
And yet with a distinct awarness of discovery,,,
I am here...
Sleep
Sleep,,,
I long to sleep... To have peace in my mind.
A settled spirit seems an unreachable destination.
The comfort of having my heart rest from its'
Meloncholied emotional journeys for a time.
To simply sleep and dream...
To dream that sleeping dream.
I would sleep with the stars on a bed made of moon.
Or simply locked away in darkness with no door
To place the metal key.
A satin bed with a wooden top
Burried deep beneath the discovery of any human...
Just to sleep
Death and Passion
Both experiences that can be pushed to darkness
Death and darkness
Passion and darkness
Would I be necro to want to mix the two?
I feel,,, no.
To reallize one's mortality and one's immortality
In combination with one's desires.
To wish to carry one's passion into the beyond.
Is not a morbid thing I think.
Only a reallization that there is darkness in both
And embracing it can only further my mortal experiences
Blood
And my mind is filled with life...
Thoughts of blood...
The sound of a heartbeat,
The vein that pulses upon your neck.
The warmth of your fingertips,
The hardened appendage that flows full with it.
Blood...
That dark metallic taste upon my lips,
The scent consuming me to uncontrolled hunger.
The velvet feel, soaked upon my skin.
Taking life into me that I will possess,,,
Even into my death.
Church Bell
The Church Bell echoes in the distance,,, with each toll I feel that underlying message as the blood rushes from my heart leaving me witha cold sense of fear...
Hell is coming...
Another reminder that I walk around knowing that Death waits just around the corner of a turn I'm soon to make.
A Writers Thoughts on Love
Love... an invention not yet invented yet demonstorized and terrorized by a society full of loveless entrepeneaurs Who are obsessed with it's possession.
"To own that which no one else has."
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