Monday December 19, 2011 at 2:40

Lost My Mind

Sometimes I miss my mind
Even though ignorance has been kind
I can’t think past quick lines
Trying to put together words to rhyme
My dreams turned from vivid to blurred
Waited but no explanation heard
Spent too many minutes thinking
What lesson I needed to learn
Overlooking faults
Mistaken for being strong
Complete coherent thoughts
Tell me staying here is wrong

Submitted by: http://gisellefromhell.tumblr.com/

Thursday December 15, 2011 at 13:20

The Two Letters In Between

so, umm…
it starts with an ‘l’ and ends with an ‘e’
encompasses everything in between,
the heavens and this gravel.
it gives meaning to the meaningless, and the ludicrous babble.

it was the first shot heard around the world, in this battle.
it kills our young, livestock, and cattle
but with a smile on our faces, sporting crooked grins
gapped tooth and shallow eyes trying to look, within.

you see, i see your soul
and you see nothing.
i see what you did two days before you did that one thing.
ill never know what you did last summer.
but i wish we did something this winter.

you know when i was cold?
when i had no one?

i knew i wish i had you in my heart
but was i ever in your mind?
you knew i wish to be yours,
but did you know you had mine?

now the indian giver, i am
all i ask, is for it back.
and i wont accept the fact that you wont give it
perhaps, its because you never had it.
not once, no single time did you tell me how it behaved.

the mannerism of my actions.
how my heart translated into verbs
what went between, yeah, yeah the transactions.

i believed in you just for the simple satisfaction.
and the gratification or having elation….i know i have a way with words
but honestly it led to deflation.
and i say honestly because with my honest opinion
i could never breathe.

and i heard the word.
started with an L ended with an E
those two words in between?
you tell me.

http://fiftyesloco.tumblr.com/

Thursday December 15, 2011 at 10:40

No inspiration.Open windows behind glass cut me thru the spine.People on the tip of the toast at wishing time.11:11The  last one of the year and I didn’t notice the rest.I prefer to wish on the stars that keep me company and burn into my collar.Orion.I’m riding the skyline on his belt like a leather roller coaster.I wish I was somewhere else with someone elseNot who you think.Adam.He keeps me safe and he doesn’t even know it.It sounds a bit off at first, but I want him and I have lied already.He did light up when he saw me during our final meeting.And when he started talking he got embarassed. Hid his face. Behind a northface. I got near him and wouldn’t give him that half smile I had rehearsed.I couldn’t even look at him.And I hated myself all the way home.Surrounded by a spinning orb of colors and light.Ignoring the beauty I passed that his would not allow me to appreciate.

Thursday December 15, 2011 at 8:00

Saddest truth about reality.

The saddest truth about reality is the act that we the people don’t know the true me. They themselves run around unsure if their lives are truly bound. “who am I?” is often asked A burden to all, an impossible task. I ask myself and answer in lies I have no really true alibi. I may be that I may be this, but the me to me and the me to you is never in true bliss. Gay, straight, lesbian, bie, You don’t know me, and neither do I, Fat ,thin,pretty or ugly none of us know the true undefined me. I have to find myself without the opinions of you, but without that guide I couldn’t really know the truth. Yet in that comes another thundering wave, because its just your thoughts, a different Ashley, a different way I behave. I am Ashley to him, her, them , and they, Who am I to you a goth, a prep, someone to help you on a bad day? A fighter, a lover, an artist, a poet? Am I the only one not to know it? A bitch, a rocker, a best friend, a worst enemy? All opinions lost inside of me. The Saddest Truth about reality, is that not many can look in the mirror and say “I know me.”

http://deviantkoi.tumblr.com/

Thursday December 15, 2011 at 6:16

Aria of self.

As soft sediment lay across the grave
of the dreamer, doubt awaits.
The shallow men in this area
Take time to clear the heart of creation.

The front of my mind is sprinkled with epitaphs.
The names upon them are my hopes and dreams.
The soft sediment will now be my memory,
So that one can bury the fulfilled.

              Take it all again.
Through it still the mind dreams of will,
and savors-
Almost every bit of choice.

The aria of conscious logic echos through
the syphony hall of my mind,
While the audience of ignorance
watches- and learns from self,
The ever changing dream.

The the ever changing screams
that take on your drums.
Through the canals of awareness,
to bring you to a conclusion.

To the air that passes, to share one thought.
Along the chords of reason, do the voices make a sound.
And only then do we allow truth to be found.

Submitted by: http://moonlitbeat.tumblr.com/

Thursday December 15, 2011 at 2:40

Wednesday December 14, 2011 at 21:30

nine seven eight

In my head I am always sixteen and it is always scorching New England summer and I am always falling madly in love with the way some boy’s collarbone slopes down his chest, with freckled knees, with swimming in our underwear. With sneaking out under star-draped skies, with jumping into the pool, with basement games of Beirut. I am made of sunshine and soft grass and oak trees and Revolutionary War cannons and I will stay this way forever.

http://jessieflux.tumblr.com/

Wednesday December 14, 2011 at 21:08

skinned knees

You say you think of me at five a.m., and how can I tell you that I do the same—

that as the sun rises over Manhattan rooftops I remember how I fell for you

so hard I skinned my knees. I walked all autumn with blood trickling down my shins,

picking the gravel from my flesh, thinking of nothing but your lips on my skin.

Submitted by: http://jessieflux.tumblr.com/

Wednesday December 14, 2011 at 21:08

i was hoping that something would spark a fire in me to keep me alive 

he asked “why can’t we do this more often” and truthfully i didn’t know. i had always refused leaving the comfort of my solace laden solitude haven cover and i didn’t want to change the dynamic. i could’t deal with the change. he would have to go on alone until i’ve fixed myself

i went from feeling too much of the wrong thing; whipping lashes of hiding and sitting glued to the bathroom floor. a thin sheet of rug comforting my nerves. a faint light igniting them. 
to feeling the right things at the wrong time and being blind to anything besides what was straightforward; a daily numbing shot to the head that needed constant upkeep in a twisting sadistic irony. 
now i’m feeling nothing; no right at any time no wrong at any time. nothing. the tunnelvision i was cursed with and had overcome became an opaque sheet of blank canvas between me and color. even worse than. i have to fight where i never needed effort before and those muscles are weak. they have no memory and no resistance to shape them.

so when again he asks “why can’t we do his more often” 
i will say that what is never done can never be often.

solace laden solitude haven 

Submitted by: http://morningsides.tumblr.com/

Wednesday December 14, 2011 at 21:07

As I amble through another day without sleep, I can’t help thinking about how happy I am. I have never before been so happy to see the people in my life, so talk to the people I talk to, to be crazy with the people I’m comfortable around. This is a distorted reflection in the mirror to who I was a year ago this time, two years ago this time, three years ago this time. I’ve gotten to a point when I’m past all the horrible scarring things and I’m healing. It’s all contained within me. I can think back to the people who have walked in and walked out of my life and not be choked and melt. I can dedicate myself to things I care about without wide eyes and shaking teeth. I can stay in one place for so much longer with out becoming restless of leg and impatient of heart. I have no need for the change that fed me. I can be myself in a way the has petrified me in the past. I think that I have found the right recipe of people to surround myself with so that I can grow to unspeakable heights. I can be beyond what I have ever imagined and be fine with that and not feel bad and be willing to share and be given and take and most of all to care. I can imagine going where I want to. I can feel like I’m not a burden. I can flush the worry down the toilet and deal with the fast heartbeats in my own way. I can begin to move away from my normal emotion that has governed me for so long: apathy. I spent so much time in the middle; in the grey, that I never knew what I wanted and I never even tried. I’m still working on being who I need to be and doing the things I absolutely need to do. And with a fear it will be too late to change, I still try. It’s an insane effort, but it has to be done. I have my bad days. I have days I go back 10 steps and want to harm myself like I used to. But I have more days I can be proud of than shameful ones so I’m proud. And most of all I’m happy.

Submitted by:  http://morningsides.tumblr.com/

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