(I was going through some old stuff that I kept in a box. I kept it for a reason. I found this poem/song thing I wrong, that I actually really like. I thought I'd post it)

the stalls all read my name and number
"for a good time call", in marker
this soap and water wont help the shame, again
the wall lists nearly 30 names
somewhat of a sign up page
im a party favour for a twisted game

who ever thought handwriting could change you
completely clean I'm dirty through and through
those few letters have me feeling like a whore
my phone's unnoticed without a ringer
calls tear the skin and make it linger
postergirl for locker-room walls.
for a good time call.

its the same people time after time
keep geting phone calls at a quarter to nine
some strung-out freshmen wants to dance
5 drunken seniors loaded like a gun
calling my cell at ten after one
thinking that their luck may change tonight

im feeling naked, fully clothed. staring, slack jaw
so surprised at the penmenship I saw
it wont come clean no matter how hard I scrub
with the laughter at my boots, I walk
these four walls echo your cheap talk
this whole school smells like bleach...


(I think I wanted to continue, but lost interest. some of it really sucks, though.)

but now when I think about the silences
I know you're approaching original ways to say I love you.

...no no no, me no likey.

but now when I think about the silences
I wonder what words are tickling your tongue

...that's better. hmm.

but now when I think about the silences
I wonder what words are tickling your tongue.
in between the moments of hesitation, I dream
about what you do when you're lying there
beneath the blankets
warm with admiration
eyes wide shut or blinking slowly
humming a tune I've never heard before.
swirrling fingertips upon your hips,
and grasping midnight air
it glistens on the sheets and on your hands
as you shake the night away.

you stared at me with cupidity
you licked your lips, then you spat at me.
you standing there is a crime, you see
for the love of humanity.

-------------------------

you look at me and fold your ears,
words I say just glance and blow.

------------------------

everything I say float past your hurried charm.
as you busy yourself and close your eyes
to hands waving and flairs rushing.
words glace off your folded ears, and
shrink in your thundering presence.
You pretend to be everything to everyone,
you pretend to think that everything you've ever done
is royalty and fantasy
and never must you apologize for standing your ground,
folding your arms,
and rushing away from every situation

--------------------------
she'll sleep with her eyes open.
she'll busy her mind with 1-2-3
until the darkness retracts
she'll burn like fire
she'll count on her fingertips

(I gizoogled my poetry diary and got some pretty good stuff. I lie of course, but it's worth a read. You should gizoogle your stuff.)

word space word period. we sloppy sentence structure. used, abused, n double spaced; faded ink, n tattered margins. I've been fight'n against mah papa cuts fo` so long but real niggaz don't give a fuck. I've sucked tha blood clean out of tha tip from tha streets of tha L-B-C. word space word period. tha sweet S-M-to-tha-izzell of wet pages, tha bitta taste of indian ink, line tha baseboards...

-------------
Cindarella scorned me. She frowned upon mah every move towards shatter'n her shoes, mah hopes n mah dreams. Belle thought low of me, n mumbled sum-m sum-m `bout 'always a beast n playa a prince. ' Perhaps she's right

-------------
open minds n closed hearts on rolled sleeves yo up fo` try'n steppin' except work'n through th'n so, wit eyes wide shiznut, you walk away alone friznom all thizzat could hizzle bizzy mirrored faces n echoed voices haunt yo every stizzay n glide even if you wiznish it all away, it stares you back in tha jugular so D-R-to-tha-izzown yo sorrows wit a F-to-tha-izzifth of gin (but sorrow learns ta swim) n try all drugs knizzown ta dawg (and some that arent) coz I know im stiznill on yo mind. (whetha you like it nor nizzle

(I've been going through some old stuff, since I've got a horrible writers block. I'm pulling stuff from the grave here)

__________________

the sky is dying, dear.

kisses in the closet,
explosions in the distance

and I couldn't breathe

_________________


spin the axis.
make it sing.
dizzy up the world
and fuck the thing.

_____________

give me metal and I'll write you a song.

_____________

I miss you and you're not even gone
so I'll watch the stars tonight
and hope you watch the same one.

fuck distance, now. I love you, now.

_____________

when chemistry loses meaning.
i wander back to you.

______________

I'll invest my life in you.
I'll invest my knife in you.

_______________

todays average love poem
without merit or fancy words
is brought to you by delta tee
and delta dee
and the gunman at the door.

________________

I can almost see your face
in the pool of blood
that's stained my shoes.

________________

but again, look how complicated its getting
its not as straight forward as it used to be
were not just plugging in values anymore.

word space word period. we're sloppy sentence structure. used, abused, and double spaced; faded ink, and tattered margins. I've been fighting against my paper cuts for so long. I've sucked the blood clean out of the tip. word space word period. the sweet smell of wet pages, the bitter taste of indian ink, line the baseboards, and every crack thereafter, in between my sheets. you're under my nails. you're under my skin. word space word exclaimation word space word question. words, space, sound. this stanza is completely hollow, the spelling is awful, the meanings not there. its littered with typos, and covered in what can only be described as... and thats when my eyes dart back to the paragraph before this

Cindarella scorned me.
She frowned upon my every move
towards shattering her shoes, my hopes and my dreams.
Belle thought low of me,
and mumbled something about
'always a beast and never a prince. '
Perhaps she's right

magnetic poetry

she will hesitate sympathetically
even transfix commercial breath
be seemingly prepared
sick with surprise
you charm strangely and not only
an apprehensive boast
that fantastic glow he read
can slowly brew insanity

open minds and closed hearts on rolled sleeves your up for trying anything except working through things so, with eyes wide shut, you walk away alone from all that could have been mirrored faces and echoed voices haunt your every step and glide even if you wish it all away, it stares you back in the jugular so drown your sorrows with a fifth of gin (but sorrow learns to swim) and try all drugs known to man (and some that arent) because I know im still on your mind. (whether you like it nor not)

I found poems I stashed away that are actually quite good. ooh:

"friendly fire" - march 17th, 2003
It's 4am and this attic's cold,
a box of pictures lay scattered and
I've cut the faces out,
they're staring back at me.
There's blood on the walls and
blood on the carpet and
I'm sitting in the middle of it all,
with your face in my hands.
"It's just a friendly fire", you said
but youre bleeding out on my
sunday dress.
that open window looks inviting,
I'd do just about anything to
avoid this moment
but I wont do you
in.


Feb 23rd, 2003 -- The Pianist.
I never took the time
to learn the words
to any of the songs in the book on the piano
but they'd always play for me.
I remember listening to the ivory.
Trying hard to find a flaw in their perfection,
as it always found the flaws in me.


Feb 24th, 2003 -- Angelica
She laughed a vicious laugh
as she lifted her feet and floated
above the kitchen floor that seemed to move in waves.
she smiled as she dove
and surfaced.
eyes gleaming
heart beating
tears streaming from laughter
she grabbed for the nearest object
letting it go, she let out one cry
and all time seemed to stop.

it's two thirty, worse than nights before.
I stay up at night longer, my woken hours are shorter
in this disgusting stupor I lay awake and stare at these four walls
wishing I was someone,
somewhere
else.
I'm so tired of being here.

---------------------------------------------
and when I leaned over to kiss you, I knew at that moment
that everything we ever had was bound to change
because I was about to do something stupid in my mind
that could ruin everything, once again.

--------------------------------------------
my lips have never been so soft, as they were when they touched your skin.
and though I adored every moment of it, I hated it equally so.
never fix what wasnt broken,
and never break what choses not to bend.
-----------------------------------------------------

im not cold, but I'm bundled up in far too many sweaters
theres this cold and eeriy itching on the insides of my skin;
an anger is rotting in the pit of my stomach, twisting and churning
churning and twisting
and aching it's way through my entire nervus system.
something is broken in me.

------------------------------
hours have gone by since I last saw your face
merely hours. hardly that.
and yet, I can't erase the pain from my mind that I saw in your eyes
and I cant erase it from your eyes.
my fingers are numb as they stumble these keys
and I can only picture you laying in bed.
possibly daydreaming as I know you aren't asleep.
staring at the ceiling, or the inside of your eyes
and everything that comes to mind threatens to make you cry
and nothing I can say will ever take those tears away.
I love you an I'm not afraid.
--------------------------------------
I wish I had a reason to kiss you, you know.
instead of making up lousy excuses, and trying to blindside you
each and every time.
it's not working, it's clear to see
at least to me
as you haven't said a word.
---------------------------------------
"i think we're too good friends to do anything else"
sadly this is true, and in my heart of hearts i know it.
but, I don't want to admit it.
somehow, in the pain and confusion of it all
I've fallen in love with you yet again
and the real, romantic like love
that you hear tell about in movies
and depressing songs,
not the love we shared before- that mutual thing between best friends
big brother and little sis.
and its disgusting but true,
just how much I want to act on instint and excuse
and just how much it'd ruin anything between us- if we ever did.
--------------------------------
fallen stars, i watch them bleed
they ooze onto the faded carpet
and puncture little cut outs on the scenery
they are, but stains from a memory
and nothing more
or less.
or more or less they are.
but glittery shards of empty hope.
and repressed pain;
dancing before my eyes
with glowing sparks they seize my skin
and tear below it's thickend flesh;
and though I know not how it feels;
I know it tastes like sex.
---------------------------------
we've made it to three am, and I've nothing more to do than sit here and scribble and doodle and draw, and maybe, just maybe, come up with something worth writing or sharing. and in this empty mind of mine, there's nothing but rambles pouring from the depths. and I keep on typing and typing and words keep flowing and flowing, but none of it ever makes sense unless you're sober, or perhaps just high. I guess I found a reason to forget the world and just ramble in useless and senseless sentances again and again I type the same thing in hopes that I'll be something else. but, isn't that the definition of insanity. I guess we'll just wait and see. A couple more days, and a stronger does of Seritonin Reuptake Inhibitors, and your pitch black world is just another blurr.
---------------------------------------------------------
i want to sleep but my eyes beads
I feel the need, to just breathe
but I choke on everything I need.
-------------------------------------------------
thus concludes this final chapter, of another lonley night
and if I ever find a way to trade the lonely, I'll give you a call
but, for now, I'll just settle for the reason

here it is at two A-M.
another night of sitting on my heels
with candle light at my finger tips
and resting. so idle.
things feel so different now,
the air has a different texture and so does my skin.
evern your voice has a different ring,
as you bury those promises,
loves notes,
and sweetest moments under your bed
and away from the new year.
I've still got you kiss burning on my cheek,
and your flesh tingling upon my lips
and i'm worried
that all the salt on your wounds could never come clean
or that there's a thousand more tears,
for every two that I try and whipe away.
and while you're drowning in this ocean,
I'll sail across the seas,
because when the flood is getting too bad-
I'll do everything in my power
to help you build an ark.