the burglar

could i talk through windows
could i look through walls?
thieving away my hopes and lies
second hand verses, chords we don't know

we don't understand how to play
but you sing me to sleep and stay
full of dreams that chase my
nightmares away

and it's becoming obvious
that i can't give you up
so, it's getting late,
won't you stay?

there's a key to my heart
and i don't know where it lays

but i bet if you opened your eyes
long enough to look,
it would fit perfectly in your hand

but you don't need it anyway
because you're breaking in

i would so do that axe undie run.
i have no shame.
and i look damn cute in a lacy bra.

ANYWAAAAAAAAAAAY.
i. hate. my. life.

- "you know he does angel dust now..."

-"he really isn't as big of a druggie as everyone claims"

-"KID. come smell this tequila. does it smell like your boyfriends breath?"

-"...you two would be a cute couple. well, if it wasn't for the.... you know."


YES. I DO KNOW.
AND I HATE EVERY SECOND OF IT.

I feel like I've let some people down. I feel like I'm living a lie. I feel like I'm being ignored. I feel like I'm being let down. I feel like I'm loosing my boundries.

And somehow, it's never been more freeing.

But I still wish I didn't feel those ways.
Because, when I'm alone at 1:44 in the morning, they hurt so bad.

In the name

My imagination has been so many things;
she's a drug, she's a lie, she's a hidden alibi

i love staying up laet to talk to someone who makes me smile. ;)

my imagination

she cries to the touch
bleeds to the taste
throws you away
but you can't forget
her face.

yet the days go too quickly

people never want to fight me, because i don't back down.
my mom calls me a hundred and seven pounds of whop ass.
and i may not do any damage, but, hey, neither will you, kiddo.
even if you take everything from me, you can bloody me up, you
can lock me away, you can strip me of everything.

but you will never win.
because i never get up.
even if i die
i will keep the same standered.

it's that easy.
you can break my arm,
slit my wrists,
but i'll still give you that same
irrational, stupid, irritating cocky
smirk.
and you'll just want to hit me again.

but it'll never go away, kid.

i remember i called this one dick a kid
and he told me he was older than me.
i said he will still be a kid because he doesn't
even understand the statement or the
indifference in it. his brilliant comeback?
stop being a whore and stop buying my
clothes at walmart. for your information,
i find walmart trendy,
asshole. and that's what brightens my day.

i remember this one kid cheated on my friend
and i called him a jack ass, not capable of something
almost half the human population can do with ease.
he told me i was a wannabee emo fuck. oh, who's scared now,
jack ass?

i remember this one kid had a crush on me, back in fifth
grade. we made fun of him. and he tried to choke himself
in my spanish class.

and that's the only time i've ever regretted my vile
temperament. until this other kid came around.
and just. won't. fucking. leave.

w e ' r e t o g e t h e r ( f o r b e t t e r o r w o r s e )

everyday i change.
in every pair of eyes i'm different.

they see me as the tease
the bitch, the whore, the heartbreaker.


then they see me as strong
they relay, they think i'll never break


but she sees me the way i am
loud, but silent, strong, but broken.

and she sits with me in the dark when
i make late night phone calls that should
have happened months ago, but no one answers

and then it's quiet again
and i'm back to me



in the silence of the dead of night
things can seem so different

from talk of neon bands and clowny-creepers
(and a little too-cheerful of a ninja)

you can feel that grin coming on
and that's how i know that i belong

i want to say
that i'm so sorry

but i know that i'm really not.

so i wonder why i called you
54 times around 2:57 am.

.

mind fuck.

she said she wanted to be a wiccan.

it's 2am...

it's 2am
and no one's listening to me.

and i wish that someone would act like they cared

and i'm sleeping on the floor again

and i can't stop thinking about what i don't have

and aluminum cans liter my floor


it's 2am

and i'm still wanting more.

calico scars

there is nothing safe about you!
there is nothing you have that holds me down!

stop making me scream, stop making me regret.

you're making me turn on everything that i tell you
you make me want to rebel against the rules i set myself
but not in a good way.

you want me to break the good rules.
you want to shape me so you can have me.

you gave up asking why i stared at the sky
and now you grab my face away

you gave up asking me about the music;
you gave up the music entirely.

you gave listening to me, when i talk about love
and told me i'm selling myself short.

you gave up listening to me,
and started yelling at me.

you gave up figuring me out
and decided to fit me to your life
so you wouldn't have to.


but that's not love.
and when people see this
they'll stop looking.

it's easier to never start
because you never hurt anyone

god knows i've done that
because my heart never
worked right in the first
place.

and now when she sees him
she turns to me and goes
that poor bastard.

and she's so right.

and despite the fact that you
want me different

you still hold me the same.


and it's not that i don't get you.

i get you too well, and this is not right.

and it will never work when i can't
look you in the eye.

she's liqour-coated lies

it's so funny, how sometimes you say its okay, insist it's okay, but it's not.

no, it's never like you think it is. i'm talking about when at one side, you feel
utterly relieved, and fulfilled. but then you're on edge, and the littlest thing
can anger you beyond comprehension. you go from thinking happily saying
you're great, and one need that's denied, no matter how big or how small,
can leave you wanting to scream. but you still feel that same utter edge of
calm.

and it makes you want to scream more.

---

hm, so. this is my first blog. that's pretty cuool, right? yeah. i just... want
to be heard. but, we all ask for that. how often does it happen? i hate being
ignored, and that's all i've felt this past week. i feel like it'll only get worse,
but....
but nothing.
i'm a cynic at heart.