i am a worn-out ballet shoe lost without its other half. thrown aside for a new pair, i am naught without my companion shoe gallivanting around without me. i want to be a simple plain dirty tired ballet flat not a polished stiletto with false airs and shiny PVC. i will never be a polished stiletto to be walked in around town for showing off. i am afraid to be a stiletto for fear one day my heel will fall off or hurt an unfortunate toe. i just want to be a simple worn-out ballet flat lying around with my pink ribbons tattered and torn, thrown aside after a short untreasured shelf life. somebody burn me and set the carbon cycle in motion. sometimes life and feelings are nothing but carbon nonsense.
sigh.
a year ago i was beautiful on
-
love
i was so high i couldn’t see how painful it would be to fall from this pedestal no no not at all. now that i’ve been pushed from the pedestal all i have are broken limbs and bones. it does not matter how broken everything is but the heart and spirit no longer exist. rub the
-
seed of satan into my skin
after vigorous copulation with the devil, yes the dull ache can you feel it
-
throbbing throbbing throbbing
away down south like a purple bruise deep inside. clad in all our sins i am me, and will always be, till the day i die, just like beautiful emily says it. if i had stuck to my guns i wouldn’t have ended up
-
shooting myself
in the foot and thighs and heart and soul and us.
the perfect halo of love escapes me. and today someone asked me
-
if i was a faithful person
. i didn’t quite know how to answer that question. i have no faith in me yet i am faithful. faith is not transferable; once gone forever gone poof woof toof! i am gone with the wind
-
irrevocably yours
yet not quite yours was i ever yours i don’t know.
-
what IS faith
i want to know
-
how does faith feel in my hands
is it silky is it soft is it hard is it steely is it intangible is it how i feel right now.
i am a forgettable piano piece
-
played
by a forgettable pianist in the background of a crowded hotel bar that nobody but the loneliest notice whilst the rest chatter about forgettable things and forget my presence and very being
-
i am invisible
and when i end nobody notices but my
-
player
with his tired fingers pining for somebody who scorns him for his low wages and unstable occupation.
i’m so miserable here i just want to fly back home asap and party and drink my sorrows away……………………..
life sucks(said with as much angst as a 15year old).
Filed under: dysphoria
In darkroom of your eye the moonly mind
someraults to counterfeit eclipse;
bright angels black out over logic’s land
under shutter of their handicaps.
Commanding that corkscrew comet jet forth ink
to pitch the white world down in swiveling flood,
you overcast all order’s noonday rank
and turn god’s radiant photograph to shade.
Steepling snake in that contrary light
invades the dilate lens of genesis
to print your flaming image in birthspot
with characters no cockcrow can deface.
O maker of proud planet’s negative,
obscure the scalding sun till no clocks move.
- Plath
it hurt more than i thought it would. be still beating heart, be still. time will heal you. sleepless at seven with the mind running amok in fields of black wheat and being chased by three ghosts in lipstick and rouge. listening to the lesbian drama anthem on repeat and on repeat and the lyrics flash in my head…………………………………..
sigh. so disjointed.
in a house i don’t belong to. trying to feel my fuckjing way out but it’s complete darkness, just like when you shut off the lights in an underground house in coober pedy.
feeling my way around and getting knocked here and there; it’s a rough floor and there are glass shards in my feet. i must get out of this house so i keep on walking around blindly, hoping to find a doorknob to twist open.
it’s been days with no light and water. desperation kicks in and kick the walls in frustration. no windows, no doors. no concept of night and day, no sound, not even a rat.
this emotional penitentiary sucks.
and my only ray of light is flying away, away, and away.
limbs cold. the ache spreads like a metastasizing cancer throughout the body. this ache, this ache. this ache makes the knees weak and spine curve. sometimes it stops and it feels so good, but it comes back, and each time it does, harder and stronger. i close my eyes and grit my teeth. i can only groan. groaning seems to be the only alternative to painkillers.
my periods seem to get progressively worse and heavier. i can’t wait to have my four children and then go for a hysterectomy.
urgh.
on another note, i don’t know why i’ve become so emotionally needy. i used to think cuddles and hugs were stupid. perhaps distance really makes the heart fonder.
and now, to wait for the monthly demon to leave.
frozen days and legs stiff, i feel my pit grow darker and darker. that faint glimmer of light i thought i could see is now a figment of my imagination. oh figment! don’t run away from me, i will only eat you for dinner. speck of light in my mind’s eye. can you see my mind’s eye squinting.
i lie in my pit feeling the blood drain out of me slowly. no holes, no blood. just sheer lifeforce ebbing out of me…….
slowly, slowly, the darkness is a-coming for me. envelope me. i will embrace the music.
Filed under: dysphoria
i’ll fall and break over and over and over. just to disappoint.
and then i’ll be nothing but a worthless heap of dust.
dust.
dust.
dust.
i’m so homesick my heart just aches at every prod.
and you.
Filed under: dysphoria
is now ridden with holes.
sometimes you misunderstand me.
like chugging around in a train in a state of half-consciousness; sober yet not quite. leaving on friday. so mixed-up all inside.
all i see are spinning ballerinas. spinning and spinning and spinning away in my mind’s eye, spinning round and round my head, making me dizzy and i crane my mind’s neck to look at where the spinning ballerinas are going.
then they stop and spin into your face. my ballerinas disappear into your face, your nostrils, your every pore………………..
spin away and away. do you not get it. my ballerinas are in you. don’t bleed my ballerinas out.
i beg you.
