Draw Me A Story

These cuts tell a story that you will never understand. They will whisper nothing into your ear. They will tell you that love is a lie. They won't let anyone come near. They write out their story with a blood-tinged calligraphy. One that you could never decipher. The words are straight lines and are inked with crimson. when does this life end? The words are the only thing left to remind That evil can be found in the best of places. It can travel near and far It can be in all the states. I don't want to run from it because I'm way stronger than that. But at the end of the day Strength is what I lack. The blood trickles slowly down my arm It makes me twitch but smile. It makes me feel empowered like i have some kind of control left. They say im out of control There is no where to hide. But with this last line I have already died.

Steven and I's Trust.

Sometimes when I hear the rain I melt. Somethings in life aren't seen they are felt. Like care, happiness, love and trust. It can all start from just a wary look from a stranger on a bus. Some might say that love is blind. But beauty lies in the beholder's eyes. So tell me you love me and I might blush. When it could end and I could be crushed. Show me you care every moment were awake. And Ill show you a trust that no man could shake. If you arent in perfect image to meet society's needs. Take my hand and let me lead. I will not change you, I will not break you. But if youll be my clay, Ill mold you. Sometimes when I hear the rain I think of us. Somethings in life you just know you can trust. So trust me this time and you will see That some things are just meant to be. No trust means no faith. Have faith in me, please, is all I have left to saith.

As the Rain Falls

As the rain falls I see nothing holding me back from the inevitable. The pain, the anguish really, could be absent if I just go through with it. The solemn whisper echoes faintly in my mind. To do it would be a travesty but not to do it could be a complete disaster. It's overwhelming really. Like waves from the ocean the rain was collected and I am engulfed. I am tossed around like a broken child's toy forgotten in the water. That is exactly what this feels like. Broken. The rain is supposed to cleanse and wash away the toxins of the earth. However, nothing can wash away my toxins, my inside feelings of torment, pain and anguish. Nothing. It feels less than a minute ago I was secreting exuberance from every pore. But now, its much more of a memory than a real thing. Rain and the dark storm clouds are now my only friend.

The Fighting Has to Stop

I can't take it. We fight and argue like little kids. He doesn't understand what the affect is. My therapist was right it is extremely toxic living here with him. My emotional well-being is being affected, dramatically. I need a vent; someone to talk to when I'm down and out-- someone I can call all hours of the night and speak to someone I trust. Shit... the only person I trust now is Stephen and when he's at work... what can I do? What am I supposed to do?

Over The Hedge

I'm broken. I tend to over-analyze every situation. I think the walls have ears, eyes and can see or hear everything I do. I sleep with my doors closed so I can actually have a peace f mind while I sleep. My therapist says it's post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms. However I know the truth. I am paranoid schizophrenic, homicidal, suicidal, manic depressive, bipolar 1. I hear voices. I hallucinate. Every ream consists of death. Even when he's asleep, I think he can hear my typing this (so, I'm typing as fast as I can). A voice just told me I could kill him in his sleep right now and walk away without anyone else knowing. I've been running low on energy and I've been depressed three-fourths of the day. I just want to lay here and die. Recollection of 06/06/2013

Relationship Suicide

Ya know, it's hard being in a relationship. Whenever you are striving for attention, not receiving it and then you start thinking about plan b's and such. When faced with this predicament most will brush it off their shoulders; however, if you are like the few you start thinking double time on back roads and alleyways you could take to get behind your problem. Faced with this problem daily you may even begin to think morbidly and want to kill yourself. As I stare down this road, a long, one-laned road, I see no dead-end, no turning around. I see helplessness and hopelessness in my future. There are no forks in the road for decisions; there are no stops signs or curves-- there is only destruction. I start devouring myself like a bear waking up from hibernation. My lungs start freezing up, closing. My heart stops beating and starts killing my brain. My brain stops thinking and shuts down-- I am asleep, finally. The pain stops and my world has found it's ease... Finally...

Benghazi-- The Hard Truth

On September 11th, 2012, President Barack Hussein Obama received a phone call at 5 a.m. Kinda like that quote “who would you like to answer that phone call at 3 a.m.” campaign commercial that aired in Ohio when Ms. Clinton ran for president. When Obama received that call he apparently rolled up on one elbow and said let the generals take care of it. Perhaps he stood up but the punch line is that he said he told the generals to take care of it and hopped a flight to Las Vegas for a fundraising soiree. Gee, I thought the campaign was over. The long of the short of it was that the Air Force/ Army/ Navy was told to stand down. On this terrible anniversary date of September the 11th there were demonstrations in Egypt and throughout the Middle East against a so-called anti-Mohammad film that was quite forgettable. Any of you remember it? Without backup by American soldiers, men and women quite prepared to die, but preferably killed, the Benghazi Consulate (or as the Democrats like to call it, Outpost—to minimize treasonously the horrid consequences). As a consequence, Ambassador Chris Stevens not only was killed but was first taken to a hospital run by a terrorist. Since the Barack Hussein Obama’s administration has heretofore muzzled survivors, we do not yet know the methods of torture and abuse inflicted upon this great American statesman who braved the terrors of ISLAMIC EXTREMISTS. I can only imagine who Barack Hussein Obama might be patting on the shoulder with his right hand and taking some outrageous contribution with his left as this man was put to death. Additionally, three other Americans were killed; two were Navy SEALS. They had mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers and a host of loved ones too numerous to mention by name. Whatever happened to the DRONES of Obama that have been sighted across the states. These Robots of Death, seem freely enough used with disregard to collateral damage throughout the Middle East. These Monsters of Destruction reign death down deliciously upon cafes and jeeps. Answer me Barack Hussein Obama. Since you have established Drone bases in North Africa why didn’t you rain death upon the obvious Islamic Extremists who killed our people and raized our Consulate/Outpost? I think you might have finished that fundraising tour (despite the fact you are not permitted again to run again for president, curious). This was dereliction of duty that rises to treason. Remember, during Watergate people lied. During Beghazi, four people died. President Barack Hussein Obama: you suck.

When i think about it....

When I think about him, I get angry. I start getting upset and angry about everything and the situation. I can't retrace the steps I've taken but I'm immorally making decisions based on a man. No income and I smoke weed. How dare someone have the right to deny me what is owed to me. This man, I think about, I've thought about everytime I'm away. I yearned for and then he never gave me the respect I deserved. I'm always wrong, he's always right. He takes his moms side after calling me a whore. I mean how much can a girl take? She is so wrapped up in a guy that gives two fucks less about the girl. I'm done I quit echoes through her head. She looks at him and his appalling appearance stands out and embarasses her... she no longer seeks to be with said man but where is ? She is dependent and she knows it, hates to admit it but, true, nonetheless.

Whenever Enough is Enough.

there comes a moment in time where you just want to give up and quit. Well that's exactly what the world wants you to do. Give up, quit, say its over. The world and all its stereotypical views will send you over the edge but don't quit. I'm stuck in a whirlwind of yes and no's. I'm almost ready to call it quits.. he's my perfect guy, literally. I've said that a lot but think about it. Italian. Muscular. Converse freak. Gorgeous. Sweet. Personality. He can draw and I bet he has an amazing singing voice. I wish he could see the strife in my eyes. A constant battle of what is morally right to me. I needed to sort out my p's and q's. He's my fabio, more or less just another hidden face. He's a lost face in the crowd but absolutely something that I must win. The ultimatum of right and wrong. Between my strength and will power I'm sure ill make the right decision. But, if it ever came down to it, then we would be able to figure it out then. I knew the moment I seen him he would be this way. And I knew at that exact moment I wanted him to be mine. But most of all, I want him to see inside of me. I want him to make me into what I can be. A positive attitude, a great free spirit minded individuals that eventually will try to coerce with each other soft whispers. But I am out to show that he and I can be together once again.

Music Junkie. ((:

The notes etch a voice that whispers to my right ear. Soft, melodic, and just a hint of anguish. I need it, I want it. It lays before my eyes on a clef ready to embrace the sharp e's. I demand to be taken to a world where music is played all the time and everyone smiles at the tunes emanating from every crevice and crack. I decided to tune higher and reach the notes with ease. Each note flawlessly hit. No hesitation, no holding back. Ready for the sharp e's I begin my climb. No turning back, its already too late. Like a needle piercing the skin the sharp e hit my heart in no time. Sending me soaring, darting in every direction. Soon I evaporate into the music and begin my fall back down. But this time, when I'm back down, I can't get back up. There is no turning back from here, this is the end.

Death of a Stranger.

A hopeless whim, a serene chill.
A smile in the dark is unseen.
Stealthily slinking along
A wonderful feeling.

Thunder crashes above
Lightning enlightens the sky.
Tears fall down her cheeks,
Blushing unseen from being sly.

She dreams of the pain
Reminisces on the strife
She touches the metal soon to be stained
A new end to life.

Behind him is a shadow
Slinking, stealthily along
It glimmers in the night
And turns into a song.

A melody so sharp they cut the skin
So in tune with those who handle.
Emanates, echoing like the heat of a flame.
Life ending, turning the heat into a cold candle.

SaCred Memories of AnotheR paSt

I have an 'x' over my heart and fat and ugly labeled in my skin. I have tiny tears all over my body from the stereotypes and torture. La torturia says Shakira. Each one tells a story. Tattoos of a different color. The need of more tattoos is inevitable. Overpowering, really. Not a thing to hold me back from achieving the ultimate goal. Gettting more tattoos has been with me since I was young. I always wanted tattoos, something perfect. I sketched and created each tattoo uniquely for my body where only the lies, rather than beauty, were skin deep. They showed who I really was, or whatever I was during that period of time. Some tattoos describing how I fel currently. I'm not afraid to get more tattoos. But of the addiction of getting inked up and scarred up. But that's all it is after a while. A once colorful and unique scar but more of a memory.

Soft Musings.

Our time is now,
Our time is this.
Strongest love,
Sealed with a kiss.

You hold me in tight,
Caress my cheek with your hand.
You make me feel wanted,
By your side is where ill stand.

A dark angel
I've called you once before.
My guardian angel
Mine forevermore

You kiss my forehead so lightly
Making me reminisce
Ill never be able to forget
Our first kiss.

I've drawn on and on
When really I'm at my end.
These are soft musings
Of a girl missing her boyfriend.

My Dark Angel.

A smile, a dark angel,
He comes near, I breathe him in.
The scent so enticing, so great,
Never did I realize new begininngs.

Begin again
That's what I'm doing.
He smiles, I grin,
Blushes on my cheeks show me the begininng.

His embrace so warm,
So strong but weak with me.
So soft but yet so strong
Caress me my love.

Kisses so sweet
Soft like dripping honey.
Sting my heart like a bee,
I hope you're falling for me.

I'm dreaming of dreams,
I'm falling again.
This is a very happy ending
My darling you are mine.

I see that smile
So soft with me
So strong with others
You are the strength I've been looking for.

One more time were together,
We will find ourselves anew
I can't wait to see us in
A plenty of years.

You are mine as of now,
As I am yours.
Please protect me, baby,
For I would protect you.

Soft whispers
In my ear,
All the things I want to hear,
Respect is all I see.

Maybe that's why
You felt upset
About him ruining me
But it feels great.

A better feeling
Than my high
Let's fly to the
Big bright sky.

As I am yours
You are mine.
You are my angel
Gaurdian angel at that.

I can see my gaurdian angel,
My dear my love.
My gaurdian angel
My gaurdian angel is you.

More Than A Being.

As a rose blooms and becomes ripe, your faces turns a light crimson color. Its not times like this where I fall, the rich blue or your virtue's valor. Amazing you are as our hands are one, how my heart skips a beat. A melody interrupted by a first kiss love. You are not what you seem, the perfectest perfect in my world. Help me from my tunnel of sorrow, from my well of doubt and my sulking corner. Don't ever question this my rose, blossom and be something more than just a rose, be beautiful. <3

Everyone Calls Me Crazy.

Just a name but yet so much more. Crazy. That's what they call me. But, yet, they still don't know or understand. They look over the facts and replace them with their own twisted thoughts and plans. They don't hear me. They don't see me. They DON'T understand me. I've been told my whole life how useless, pathetic, and wrong I am. How ill never succeed and never be anything. Well, I'm out to prove them wrong. I'm more than they see. I notice a glimmer of distraction in their eyes. They don't ever notice the crazy standing in front of them. Like a mirror but yet its multiplied 1000 times until no more crazy is left to give. They taunt me with their words and haunt me with their thoughts. They see only the surface of who I am. They only see where I am at this point. But, hey, they call me crazy. I like the name. At least I am something.

The Way You Are.

Early morning breaks. You are resting for a long day ahead. I am awake, as usual. When your awake we smile, we laugh, we cry, we are one. We are always apart regardless if were together. Your touch seems awkward, hesitant. You smile seems broken, more of a smirk. You have an expression that could break glass. You scream and shake your fists. You get irritated easily your smirk now a frown. I fear this. I fear my car will break down on this road. You have turns and twists that I'm not familiar with. A distraction makes me fall weak. I am tossed and turned upside down. I've flipped my car on this ride I thought would be easy sailing. I have failed to make it to your softer side. You aren't what I assumed in the beginning. Your a stranger that I don't recognize anymore, your faces are unfamiliar to me... you aren't what I assumed. You aren't what I thought was going to be my escape. But, you've turned into how my other roads have been. Long, twisted and leaving me broken and in a mangled heap. The clouds fall over me and I fail to be all I can. I prefer to die than stay here. The thunder echoes my heartbeat. My heart beats one last time and I realise all along you were always this way. This is who you are.

Its The Lullaby

A sweet melody. A soft tone. A roughed up edge but bright as star shine. The notes are so sharp they leave that tasty crimson color along the clef. The lines are like walls they bring in the tempo, they set the mood, notes told to hit where. Notes that no longer are soft. They get heavier and choppier. Soon enough the whole piece is a bunch of lines and circles and accent marks. Nothing makes sense. The notes run together there is no beat. The steady beat in the background continues to fade to nothing. Soon there is silence. Nothing but utter silence. A whisper echoes through the crowd. Amongst these notes are hidden words. Each note a letter expressing something more. A word or a phrase that if played in one way could mean two different things if not placed correctly. The musician is who controls his movements but fails to overcome the obstacles ahead. He drops his instrument and begins a new stretch. A new instrument a new sheet of music. The lines flow together and come together in the right places. The tempo set. The mood is in place. The orchestra starts singing and the heavens open above to welcome the music, the whispers, the forgotten notes, the meaningful accents, and most of all, after the show is over all that is left is the lullaby in which the musician once played. The lullaby of life.

Constant musings of a Wretched Soul

I never used to want someone the way I wanted him but its more or less a struggle each day. A struggle to be seen against his long nights away and his recent website visits. He makes out to be the sweetest guy, but, just as I suspected he's like the rest. He doesn't feel like I feel. He doesn't see things the way I do. He looks past the little things. Abusive without being abusive. Abusive without trying to be. The abuse is self inflicted but nonetheless still from him. He sees past the hurt and ignores the hidden meaning behind "I'm fine." He seems to believe he is completely in the right and he is completely in the wrong. I understand somethings just happen and they are mistakes but the harm that's self inflicted has more meaning than the I'm sorries and the I love yous. Sometimes all you have left is those scars to remind you of what you don't want or what you don't need. Sometimes they tell more stories than the words uttered in conversation.