(no subject)
A bit disheveled, she rolls out of bed
Bruised eyes
Thoughts running rampant through her head
But never clearly enough to be realized
She pulls back blonde hair
And pulls a sweatshirt over her head
Hoping to somehow get lost in there
And forget empty words said
So very
Desperately
She
Tries to erase memories
But there are always thoughts of cerulean eyes
A subtle smirk
And little lies
That lurk
Deep inside
Vaguely she brushes things away
Deep inside
Is where they should stay.
..............................................................................
Flowery memories
Embellishing stories
But what if we are wrong?
Imagined glances
Of utter longing
Fade into smiles
She sits and wonders if
Her heart wanders to him
A little too often.
He looks away in
A desperate way
To avoid her gaze
..............................................................................
An escalation of anger. Two voices screaming into each other. They meld into a disharmonic series of screeches. Opposing sounds becoming one. Each voice wants to become louder do drown out the other. Those in the background turn their heads away, ignoring the scene. They fear violence is imminent. Nobody wants to witness it in its truest, most irrational and unbridled form. The two voices continue to bicker, detached from everything else.
..............................................................................
An exodus of people leaving crowded buildings shove each other out of the ay. Each convinced that their reasons for exiting are the most important. After all, why should anyone care about anyone else? That just leads to pain anyways. Just worry about yourself. Push everything else aside. They don't matter anyways, right? Isn't that what we all believe? Aren't we taught apathy?
..............................................................................
I'm absolutely frightened that asking you to Homecoming will turn into a fiasco. whenever I see you my throat tightens and my heart beats rapidly. I'm scared to mess up our friendship. Three years of work could be lost so quickly. I've never pondered the frailty of relationships before. If you do say yes, my heart might just burst from sheer joy. If not, it'll be ripped in half. Either way I'll be overcome with emotion. No matter how much they differ.
..............................................................................
It's stil quite a formidable moment. You could always say no and I'll regret turning down, not one, but two offers. Part of me just intuitively knows that you're going to refuse. It started as a slight whisper, but has escalated into a mind-splitting scream. And yes, I realize I'm a pessimist and always will be. It's just engrained into me, as sad as that may be.
..............................................................................
They're such gregarious creatures. Overly talkative and overly friendly in their self-segregating groups. Some aimlessly wander between groups, making new friends and never defining themselves in restrictive terms. They don't feel the need to lead or to follow. They just act from intuition. They act from instinct. They know the genuine from the fake. Soon they learn how easy it is to read other's emotions and intentions. They craft themselves into amateur anthropologists and psychologists.
..............................................................................
My friend's boyfriend is incarcerated at the moment. I'm not exactly sure why he's been jailed. No, it's none of my business about why. I totally accept that. I barely know him, but he makes my friend happy and that's all that really matters. As long as he treats her well, I'm cool with him. He's going to be released in a few days and she is the most excited I've ever seen her. It makes me happy to see her this way.
..............................................................................
Cleaning out ar oom brings up an odd amalgamation of emotions. There are times when you couldn't be more prepared to jettison former gifts and old memories. Sometimes though, there is an object that pulls on your heartstrings so much that it becomes painful to even consider tossing it out. Despite this, part of you knows it's just excess baggage and must be erased from your very memory. Still, it's hard to throw it out. I hate getting rid of things.
..............................................................................
The loquacious people tend to seek me out when I am attempting to concentrate. They keep chattering and I desperately seek refuge in tuning them out as much as humanly possible. Sometimes it doesn't quite work out as well as it should. At these times I become incredibly irritable and forget that I could politely ask them to stop talking. Instead of this, I tend to opt for the wonderful "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" approach.
..............................................................................
It's quite ludicrous to attempt to swim in cement. It's probably also very dangerous. Don't do it..ever. Also, do not try to swallow it. That cannot be good for you. It's most likely lethal. Actually, how about you just leave wet cement alone? DON'T TOUCH THE WET CEMENT!
..............................................................................
Manacles binding violent hands
Scream. Bite. Spit.
Fight against.
Manacles cutting into skin.
Raw. Pain. Bleed.
Break away.
Freedom seems so far away.
Kick. Screech. Kill
Break away.
Now doesn't that feel better?
..............................................................................
Never quite content with the former
A self-induced metamorphosis
Cut away skin
Outline eyes
Change everything possible
If the urge hits you
Don't question
Don't wonder
Don't think
Just change
..............................................................................
Spoiled Little Bitch
Opulent jewels grazed her fingers, but she kept her hair unkempt. The wildness of it had always appealed to her. It was her own miniature way of rebellion against the wealth and status of her parents. She had always sworn to herself that she would never be what they wanted of her. After all, ;what's the fun of conforming to someone else's ideals of perfection?
..............................................................................
The pendulum oscillated. She stared at it, but never quite concentrated. He mind was focused on other things.
Hazy vision
Running
Screaming
Escape
Tattered
Broken
..............................................................................
Another picturesque panorama. I can see all, but feel nothing. I could count every petal on ever flower if I could only care long enough to focus. It's not like I don't see anything. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Part of me wishes to shatter the image, but I'm afraid the shards will puncture frail skin. Everything could splinter and I could shudder as every piece would find its way through my still heart.
..............................................................................
He pilfered make-up from her purse, still unsure of what he was doing and why. Urges like this randomly blindsided him. Sadly, he never learned how to ignore these impulses. He alwasy stole the most useless and insignificant items. (Well, at least useless and insignificant to him.) After his mediocre crime he sat down on a nearby bench and stared at the ebony cover of the plastic compact.
..............................................................................