Sacrificed Words, Meant for God.

I like the change it creates, talking.

my wrists feel like they need to be cut off, my bracelet is too binding. my vocabulary has never been so far from biblical that i need to tone it down a bit, even though all my friends say that when i speak it comes out too... forced...but what they don't know is that even though my soul isn't shy, my words, are, and so i have to push them out of my lungs, even when they grasp my teeth because they don't want to leave me, i still have to cut there wrists off. so yes even though i speak with force, i mean it. and even though i am too shy to listen to god because he is intimidating, the words i sacrificed for you are the only ones who became suicidal and decided that they had one purpose, and that was to talk to you. but then the words in my lungs got jealous and they decided they wanted to be heard also. and they sprang out .so i said to much, and i hurt myself having to shut my mouth, not letting any word slip out but one. guarded from the pits of my lungs, sought out for days and finally been found, and escorted to the lips that were supposedly sealed shut for days. i finally told you that i cared.

when seagulls lead me home

i always love to hear a seagull cry. because then I now that im not the only one who cries even when i am soaring through the skies in the beautiful sunset clouds that glow the end of the rainbow and i realize every once in a while that im also not the only human with emotions and feelings. and i lose my selfishness, and i sit in the corner and think to myself. how can i be so forgotten? and i cry, because the tears that run down my face are the only ones who are there when i am sad enough to want comfort. and tomorrow when I am asleep in my dreams, maybe I can find something that can lead me back home.
but last night I had a nightmare. my love fell for someone else. not knowing of my existence. kind of cheesy but I still believe in love at first sight. and its been a year since I first saw you. so give in and find me. cause I'm still forgiving the ones who left me behind in the hallways. but I should be thankful because that was the first time we met eyes.

One of the last deaths.

They all learn when the fire touches them. Fire is a teacher.

They all learn when water try's to pull them down. Water is a coach.

But what do I learn when death comes to visit.

Death is the test

Wether I cook with fire and swim the laps, that's a choice, but in the end, my test will come. And it is questionable that I will pass.

paris and the blackout

I feel like something has been, put down. like I'm in a world where my emotions are ignored, and my glass has become... fractured.

Paris is in a blackout.

i feel like im holding a candle where the wick has fallen out.
this feeling that i cant put the whick back in is weird and the wax.. has finally hardened.
the smell from the candle has forgotten the space around it, its forgotten me.

i can only light incense now. but incense doesn't give me light, or heat.

i changed my mind last night. instead of incense at my funeral. give me candles.

because then when i am lying into the red velvet. i can feel more alive.

because then when i am lying into the red velvet. im closer to god.

because then when i am lying into the red velvet. i can feel the flame.

and when i do.

i will be dead.


so go on paris.

go live in a blackout.

ill bring more candles.
it'll be more romantic
 

The Incense At My Funeral

I'm wanting to know that you are part of the fire, yet should you know better than to go running off into the fields. so i stand in the distance hoping that we can stop ourselves. I know our love is a lying depression and pain feels cheated. i can only wonder why hope still fears pain. i wanted to know how to find a personal devastation but instead i now dazzle in the tasteful fire that encircles the incense at my funeral. i can love the making of our legend, and it pushes me in the wrong direction, towards the answer to the question that you have been asking me for decades. yet you don't know what you want anymore.
and it seems to me, that all love has ever wanted to know, is what she wants. and i haven't felt that in years. i know that when somebody loved me, everything was beautiful. but all i see now is the dead flowers by my grave.

Dirty snow was once beautiful

I knew this person. Who tore my breath apart. I thought that we were to be together. But my childhood became corrupt, and I was sent away, living practically alone at the age of five. That was the time I cried all night, and I never cried again. I knew I had never seen an angel in my life, and because of this, I cut myself. I wouldn't let myself cry, yet I cried with tears of blood. So I sobbed all night. Because I knew I could cover it up easier than my eyes. Months later, I returned.

We met again. We began again. I promised myself I would never cry again, but when we met eyes again, I ran, I sprinted, and we danced till the day had grown old. And I knew I lied, because I knew that this was the angel I had met eyes with. But by the end of the day.

She was dead.

And i never got my breath back.

I now know that I am as changed as the once beautifully white snow.

a Poetic twist to music

you spend all your time waiting in the crossfire, for that second chance.
for a breath of awakening that would take you to your judgement day.
you seek the one you love, but
don't get your plane right on time,
know you're part of the fire.
and you should know better
than to go running of in the fields

where are we?
what the hell is going on?
the dust has just began to fall crop circles in the carpet!
a tornado flew around my room before you arrived
i cleaned the mess it made, but it made a mess again
i usually don't fall in love in southern California.
so i come up to meet you, to
tell you im sorry.
to ask you if should love each other
one day more.
in another life, for another destiny
so we can seek this never ending road to Calvary

what deep post could i put on my blog now...oooh pictures!!!

LOVE MOVED TO CALIFORNIA

Pain is a countless and hopeless agony and torment that cannot be the only type of pain i have met eyes with. pain seems to haunt me. chasing me in my dreams. trying to kill me. running with love seems to be the only way.

Yet love? love is worse. love seems to hide in the distance, or in the corner waiting. and when you least expect it, you'll see love, hiding in the darkness, sitting there, worried, just as much as you are. yet love is with depression, talking, thinking, finding out from depression, that love is being watched, by you, so love looks over at you. and do you know what to do about it? no, because you haven't experienced anything like it before. and all of the sudden you feel scared and frightened, and crazy. and you'll walk towards love, not knowing what to do. yet when you get close. love leaps up, taller than a building, sending emotions through the roof, taking you with them, and sending you high in the air. and you fall, and all you feel is the air rushing across your skin.
all you have to do is ask for love to catch you, and it will.

if you don't, pain will. and pain will feel cheated.

if lust sees you falling. run.
if sadness hears you calling for love, he will yell.

but you wont hear it, because you hear better things.
hope will cheer, and start to cry.
but hope still fears pain.
so he calms down.

right now

pain seems to be leaving love alone.
yet i seem to have lost love.

love moved to California last year.

All The Kids Have Grown Up

43110

why do i need to be so lonely. why is this the life i live, in this, the distance between me speaking my mind and letting it all out, to the only place in my mind where i can live in my own insanity, i just keep the words flowing and my mind seems to know what to do to keep it all sounding like an actual sentence. i have no control of my life, yet someone is home and it seems to me that i'm just drinking a cup of tea. and i run out, letting my emotions spill everywhere. just over an empty cup of tea. i splurge. and i seem to be deleting the sentence i don't like. because it went bad.

i feel to close to the rest of the sentences, and that is how the first Claustrophobic created the paragraph ,and the tab, and the space. i need some space in my life right now. YET I REALIZE. what does the tab mean compared to the way one lives. i guess a head start from the rest. kinda like a 'race to the finish' type deal.



i took a breath just to get away from the computor for a bit, so i could slow down and think to myself. but that is why i started typing again, because i didnt want to think. i want to keep my words fresh. right now the only word in my head is only one word. and that word changes everytime i type a new word. i still forget to mention that i only sweat the small things like commas and periods,

and the difference between "your" and "you're". i am the problem when it comes to judging someone's sentences. the only difference is that i don't mind capitalizing. why?

because my insanity doesn't give a shit.

HOW I WRITE DEPRESSION

                      D: find a personal DEVASTATION

                                            E: have a public EPISODE (but not too obvious)

                                   P: PARTICIPATE in listening to sad music

R: READ a sad poem

                                  E: ENJOY the feeling you get after crying

 S: SIT all by yourself

                                   S: realize that you are really really SAD    

      I: IMAGINE better days

                         O: ORGANIZE your feelings into art

                                                 N: write a touching letter to yourself on a NAPKIN

In short,
Be Original

your love is but the outside of the earth everywhere

 i now dazzl in the tasteful fire

 list to celebrate how gifts see a powerful skin. more fashion like free and beauty at a service mark. support a legacy made to win everywhere

 love story:we fall in the romantic occasion

 i love the making of a legand

 the legacy honoring the legendary

 i wonder what to wear

he was in his writers game. but this season made fun of the horrible disconnection to the attack... by the time his good name premiered, it was warming up his extreme, confided, funny candidate. he did not leave a good audience during a commercial break. he can run the tiebreaker. his reruns got awkward, his speech cheers but he loses time. his hand runs on crippling fear and kicks in to be finer things seen for the first time, a far cry to see something touched by her security. within, he cant ignore.
dream casual, to wear the earth

It's Made All The Difference, Yet It Wasn't In My Favor

f
 a
  l
   l
    i
     n
      g

       h
        a
         s

          n
           e
            v    it
             e    is
              r    a
                    forbidden
             b     love
            e     that
           e     cannot
          n     win
                no
         s     matter
        o     how
              strong.
       h   
      a
     r
    d
what my problem seems to be is that i am falling in the wrong direction, knowing right from wronghas never been so confusing. i want to see what i have been doing wrong, but no one can seem to help me and my problems. I am just as confused as you were when you couldn't decide if you loved me or not. but i guess that is the answer. because you dont know what you want anymore. so your just as confused as me. perfect. well now that we are at a halt, i guess its my turn to make a decision, and i know that i am never going to like my decision, but it has to be this.

i choose to forfeit. because i cannot kiss.

The Stupid Decision Of A Procrastinator

So today I couldn't take it. In my life, only one phrase has been talking to me. I do not know where it comes from and it goes something like this
"It's better to be let down from knowing, then by not knowing at all. Because then you will live a life of what if." I saw this and I knew that a question unanswered is a fate of depression.

It's been burning in my heart, giving me that feeling that makes me want to scratch my chest out because there isn't enough room in my body, because I find my skin claustrophobic to the senses. And love is pushing it. I needed to be set free! My question, unanswered, needed to be found. But then I asked, and you told, and I fell. And I can't get back up. Because I found you, but this wasn't the way it should have been. Because now I am dying. My heart is rotting. Surviving on only Coca~Cola and tears. Yet the tears feel good. And they stop falling. And my heart stops. I've been through this once before. I won't go through it again. But that's the stupid decision of a procrastinator. Waiting till now to finally put my mind to my heart, and instead of my heart, to my feet, and my feet to my lungs. Cause walking hurts my breathing, so why didn't I just stop? Because love was hopeful. And because love does what he wants.

I  N D   I
n  o  r   n
d  n  a   d
i   e   m   i
p      a    v
e       t    i
n       i   d
d       c   u
a            a
n            l
t

 
 

a funny GIFt to you

iNDi

Futile, Yet Persuasive.

so it must come to this, deciding which path to take has never been so impertinent, and it has become uncomfortable to me. its futile, yet persuasive. but i honestly don't know what to see, or hear, yet i touch and feel you there. right in front of me. after what had happened today, almost breaking down crying in more than three of my classes, i don't know how i can hold it back tomorrow. but i must, because not crying means my identity, and identity makes all the difference.

Thinking About Thursday.

Well I'm kind of confused. i guess I'm receiving mixed messages about you, about us, about me. about what we feel, and how we see each other, and i guess its just hard for me to imagine what you see when you see me! well i guess I've just got pre-love syndrome, and it is a killer. falling is futile and a sin. when i see you,  i fall right into your heart, your hands, your arms, and my own pool of emotions. I'm sure you have heard of the quote "love is a battle field.", because I'm pretty sure that your army has its fort built strong, it just makes me worried if my army can break through that wall to get to you. going crazy must be a symptom, yet going crazy makes all the difference.