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Mattress Pin
Sleep.
Just sleep.
I want to hurry up and fall asleep.
So that when I awake, I'll see your pretty
face next to mine; sharing the pillow. Your eyes
closed and hair toussled. Your skin glowing in
the morning sunlight. Your perfect lean and supple body
framed indiginously against my sheets; the scent of the nights
previous activity still lingering;
your scent still lingering.
Your lips parted slightly, mumbling childish yet
sweet things; your chest rising lightly.
Lightly; lightly.
So cute.
I want to sleep.
I want to sleep, now, and wake to an empty bed.
It'll seem more like a song
if I fall asleep now.
By: me.The Waves Are:  touched Drowning Melody: Pet Shop Boys--"West End Girls" |
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No Body Homme
I came to see you the other day.
I rang the doorbell,
I knocked,
I banged
My fist was bleeding, and so was my heart.
I yelled angry words; tore your shadow apart.
I came to see you today.
I guess you weren't home
I guess you weren't there
You came to see me last night
I was on the floor, lying cold
I know it's not fair
I know it's not right
I'll run into you tomorrow,I'm sure
&each will know we're both ghostly sights.
Oui, this is from my other journal, but, I wrote this, and it is poetry non-the-less.
By: me. <333 |
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Jan. 17th, 2004 @ 12:45 pm
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From 2 nights ago,
had LJ not been so ignorant.
PantiHoles and HighHills
Yeah, sure, I'll tell her she's pretty
Yeah, okay, I might say that I love her;
and, Ha, you got me, I sometimes share a smile...
But never do I put on her glass slipper;
can't bring myself to tell her that she's anything put perfect.
I can't say to her face or to the mirror;
"Listen here, man, this is all ya' got."
S'like a movie you just can't stop watchin'.
The very best film to hit the box office yet.
She's got, shinin' wet eyes, with camel like lashes.
Thick yet thin eyebrows and a wound, a million gashes.
She got red cheeks and pale white skin and thin blue lips to match.
She's like my very own doll that I've sewn and patched
many times over, again and again, and each time that I do so
I see her beating heart. Smaller than the average, but 10x as large.
It's made of chipping golden paint, with silver lining and a bow.
And on its shell, the name engraved is in both cursive and in bold.
And though her smile is elusive, her eyes can be so bland.
I love you I say and she blinks twice, and reaches out a trembling hand.
Her words disappear with the glitter and rain, and with the gusts of the wind.
Yeah, it's like a good movie, that you can't help but watch.
The best film to hit the box office yet.
Yeah I tell her she's pretty.
Sure I say that I love her.
Okay, okay, I can smile with her.
And I always tell her she's perfect.
By: me. The Waves Are: Happy and warm Drowning Melody: Why music composed? I make my own. |
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Red Ribbon Shoes
Keep hearin' those lonely high heels clickin' down that same empty hall.
And even on bus windows her breath creates no fog. A mist and empty shell.
A pale shadow, not fit for a ghost. She's lost, and broken, and she feels fine.
And because of him, she can't look in the mirror;
she sees the similarities and even worse the diferrences.
Seems it only matters much when there are problems in the home;
but what if you don't got a home?
Livin' young, and on your own.
But what if you ain't got a home?
Makin' a way, 'cause you're on your own..
Horned by the memory of problematic scarrings
induced my hate.
It's an activated code that cannot be erased.
It's like dancin' to the same rhythm,
those lonely shoes whose heels keep clickin' on that lonely dance floor.
By: me.
<333The Waves Are:  An odd sort of content Drowning Melody: "Criminal"--Fiona Apple |
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Holl'eWould
I'm just an actress and a paycheck.
A one lined script.
An "Action!" and a "Cut!" who's got an on-screen clip.
Think you're so bad 'cause you got yourself in the business?
Well, don't think twice 'cause the mattress dips as he stands.
And as much as you'd like to think that you
'Got it goin' on', I'd really love to tell you to listen to the radio;
Do you hear that groovin' song?
I can’t say how long I dance within him, because this kind of ecstasy doesn’t know time
it only knows the feel of things and how to blow your mind,
countin' your pennies and nickel on the sidewalk
Kids on their bikes shoutin' rude words
'You ain't nobody', 'You're a has been and a canceled show.'
Can't fret, can't frown; it's an old sofa on a stained rug.
You cannot rid of lifes' old roommates, and does it mean so much?
Man, I figured out a long time ago who truly was my boss.
It's like faeries and pixies, flowers and dust.
None of it is real; least not to us.
But are we real either? I mean, c'mon, look at this?
We're just one line scripts, and
a bounced paycheck.
By: me.
<333The Waves Are: Nervous and tired Drowning Melody: "Fiend"--Orgy |
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Hotel Girl; Moonlit Doll
Keep on movin' from hotel to motel,
and forgettin' to pack up.
It's all she's got, from day to day,
to keep herself from touchin' the ground.
And she drags her limbs behind her,
scratching and digging into the tar pit; pavement.
They're burning and slowly decaying,
with every brush and breath of the trees.
And sitting in a hotel parking lot,
She lights the cigg. and drops it;
to watch the flames envelope her car,
and explode, to the degree of a million suns.
An amused smile, dragging her limbs even farther behind,
as she climbs the stairs of indiginous prosperity,
a fate she's been consumed by.
Like a ragdoll in the moonlight,
you cannot see the distorted image that is she.
This bag of bones,
stretched too thin,
alone is a gorgeous mess.
She drops the strings and the mask does fall,
but where to? Who knows.
So though her limbs are scarred and decayed;
though they're burning and her legs are mamed;
and though her smile has begun to fade,
and even though the parking lot's filled...
Movin' from hotel to motel,
plenty of baggage; plenty to pack.
By: me.
<333
Jan. 12th, 2004 @ 08:05 pm
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