| [You And I Will Sleep] |
[08 Oct 2007|11:49am] |
If my poor decisions have ruined my life, they've inadvertently ruined yours.
That's something I will never forgive myself for.
You. Boy who I love more than I could ever love myself.
I couldn't imagine having brought such a terrible thing in your life.
I couldn't imagine it in mine either.
Because I am the girl who circled the block on her little bike with her friends when she was younger, and I climbed trees and I loved all creatures and I've felt and felt and felt.
I am raw emotion.
How can I be susceptible to the plagues of the world?
It makes me feel weak, thinking of your reaction, of your family's, of your friends.
I want to cry while my body grows inexplicably thin and I beg you to not hate me.
To please, work through this with me. We can get through this. W e .
I think about how relieved I'd be to find everything is okay and nothing will prevent our fairy tale.
My eyes would water and I'd laugh and I'd lay back on the slide at the park that's so warm from the sun despite the cold winter.
You would ask me whats wrong and I'd just tell you everything is going to be okay...
But if that is not reality, then I'm faced with other options.
I think about how easy it would be for me to escape the guilt and the pain and the fight and die away by some device.
But my fear keeps me grounded, keeps me here.
My paranoia. What if I did, would I be doomed to repeat this life again until I get it right?
I don't want to go through what I've gone through all over.
This is the fear that's taken me over, made me obcess for weeks now.
Made me sick time and time again because the stress makes me weak.
Makes me wake you up in the middle of the night apologizing over and over for something that may not even be.
Please forgive me.
|
|
| Phone Booth Romance |
[01 May 2007|02:50pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 ecstatic |
] |
I named this livejournal PBRomance after a relationship I once had.
The boy and I got to hardly speak and when we did it was over the Phone Booth he had access too.
I don't speak to that boy anymore, but there's a new one in my life.
He calls me over a phone booth too.
He means even more.
I went with him to the phone booth and we decorated it in our favorite colored sharpies.
Hearts and initials, things like that.
It's just so sweet. Everything is.
I'm the happiest now I've been in a long long time, I don't know what else to say.
He makes me happy when he's not even around.
I dream of him.
He's been there for me through a really really hard time.
He makes it all go away.
So I thought I'd make my first update in a long while about him...
There's no more heart break. It's all love.
I'm thankful he exists.
|
|
| Sorry Sorry |
[03 Oct 2006|06:59am] |
Mascara streaming down her face at Seven in the morning.
[She's always sensitive when she wakes up.]
She won't feel this way later so she has to get it down now.
Pure thoughts and feeling, unpolished by doubt or expectation.
I'm losing you
I'm losing all control
Just let me be
Let me be alone for now
I want to be alone tonight
Once again we've gone off track
And lost all hope for coming back
It's time to restart again
And try all over again
It's time to work
The work is useless now
Can't you see
Your help is lost to me
I want to be alone tonight
When she's cheated on the first time, she doesn't comprehend that's what it is. The second time she simply leaves. The third time it stings. The fourth time she's done with it and vows not to be that kind of girl.
Not to be the kind of girl that can get cheated on, if there is such a thing.
A girl that's such a perfect girlfriend, no one would ever want to do such a thing to her.
So that's what she becomes.
This perfect girlfriend that gives her boyfriend space and closeness, presents, love notes, phone calls just to say I love you. A girlfriend that gives her boyfriend pure love, whispers into his ear holds him close brings him soup when he's sick and energy drinks when he's had a long night.
A girlfriend that doesn't get upset when he forgets to call because he got drunk with his friends.
A girlfriend that forgives all faults.
That's what she was with him, her Elvis Dean.
It wasn't as though he wasn't also. He fed her promise after promise and whispered in her ear and nuzzled her neck and lavished her with wonderful compliments she'd never forget. He wrote her stories and poems and texts of their marriage.
So when the Ice Queen came back, she thought there wouldn't be any trouble. She believed him. She believed him with all her heart when he said there was nothing the Ice Queen could do. It's written in stories, she warned.
He said "She wants me to see her behind your back."
She said "Oh god please don't. Please. Please. Whatever you do, don't. You won't be able to resist her spell. She'll take you from me."
He said "NO, she could never do that. I won't see her. I love you."
He said no, but he did.
He did he did he did.
He saw her. He saw her and she coaxed him to bed like she always had.
He went numb, and finished himself. He said "Come be with me at work because I want to taste you again."
So she did, and it should have sealed his fate.
No, now she's found out and he comes to her in tears. Tears and Tears and Tears.
He's begging now, on the phone. Pleading. Screaming her name as he sobs uncontrollably.
It was a month past, he's forgotten of his infidelity.
He doesn't want to lose her now, not now that she means something.
Before it was just habbit, he said. The things he said but he meant them now...
So what could she do.
Her tearful lover man with his head burried in her lap begging over and over for her to give him another chance. That he'd kill himself before doing something like that again.
That he never meant to hurt her.
"But you did," she said "It's been eight months of you hurting me..."
She took him back.
Because she loves him.
And she cries today at seven a.m. because she's not the kind of girl that can't be cheated on.
|
|
| Guitar Man |
[11 Aug 2006|12:05am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 sick |
] |
What qualifies as a marvelous day?
amazing
adjective
So remarkable as to elicit disbelief:
astonishing, astounding, fabulous, fantastic, fantastical, incredible, marvelous, miraculous, phenomenal, prodigious, stupendous, unbelievable, wonderful, wondrous.
It was the night before, beautiful and crisp. The night air was unforgiving, wrapping her in frigid expectation. She hid underneath her black sweatshirt that would later be discarded in a fit of desperation. Crouched low in the bark she waited, watching. There he was, her opponent for this game.
Her Guitar Man.
Somewhere in this jungle of wood and equipment lay thirteen other restless panting bodies. Hidden in the shadows beneath their own black clothing. Their eyes peering out from crevices and behind corners. This was Tag, This was hide and seek. This was f o x h u n t.
They played the game late into the night, and indulged themselves with a Denny's breakfast.
She had cherry filled pancakes, hashbrowns, sausage[which she didn't eat, but was consumed by others.]and bacon.
Four hours of sleep later she yawned, stretching out her arms as she waltzed down the steps and back into her Guitar Man's car. Her seat was normally beside him, but she didn't mind sharing and sat behind him instead. This luxury vehicle that would take her anywhere.
It was her, [Sherrif is Guitar Man], Guitar Man's little sister, Devi, Snow, and Rose Red. [You'd have to be following her story to understand.]
Together, they found themselves standing at the entry to Six Flags Marine World. It invoked the little girl in Beauty, and she found herself running to each and every ride; savoring every second. She must have dragged Guitar Man on twenty rides that day. Repeats of all the classics.
They filled themselves on chinese food and frozen lemonade; fluttered with the butterfly's and smoothed their hands over the dolphins. They waved at the penguins.
Finally, where else could they go?
The beach, that same beach that always accepted them. Their own little private mystery.
Rolling up pant legs and tearing off shoes and socks they ran out into the shallow waves; stroked by watery caresses.
"Lets do it." "You're mad!" "Come on. NOW!" They ran around the corner of the huge rock wall that jutted out into the ocean just as the waves retreated and vanished into the air. A huge wave slammed against the wall, but there was no sign of them.
They were safe, they had discovered another small secluded beach area that they could call their own. They vowed to return to this place. Guitar Man held his arm around her; helping her stay standing as they bravely took on the incoming rushes of water. The salt that later stung their lips. They laughed and got swept away; falling to her hands and getting drenched like he was.
Everyone ran the two miles back to the car soaking wet.
From then on, the broken heater or dehydration didn't matter because they were right where they needed to be.
Guitar man started singing, and they all joined in. The six of them. That famous amazing song.
This song. It echoed into the morning darkness.
Mother
Tell your children not to walk my way
Tell your children not to hear my words
What they mean
What they say
Mother
Mother
Can you keep them in the dark for life
Can you hide them from the waiting world
Oh mother
Father
Gonna take you daughter out tonight
Gonna show her my world
Oh father
Not about to see your light
But if you wanna find hell with me
I can show you what its like
Till your bleeding
Not about to see your light
And if you wanna find hell with me
I can show you what its
Mother
Tell your children not to hold my hand
Tell your children not to undesrstand
Oh mother
Father
Do you wanna bang heads with me
Do you wanna feel evrything
Oh father
Not about to see your light
And if you wanna find hell with me
I can show you what its like
Till your bleeding
Not about to see your light
And if you wanna find hell with me
I can show you what its
Yea
Not about to see your light
But if you wanna find hell with me
I can show you what its like
Till your bleeding
Not about to see your light
And if you wanna find hell with me
I can show you what its like
Mother
Yea
|
|
| Bloom to Perish |
[26 Jul 2006|08:54pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 confused |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Gwen Stefani - What Are You Waiting For? |
] |
Oh, ah, oh
Look at your watch now
You're still a super hot female
You got your million-dollar contract
And they're all waiting for your hot track
Beauty's got a jay oh bee. At least for the time being.
She's so hopeless in romance.
Sometimes, It craves flesh.
Her Nine To Five is at a big company that wants to see her smile while she serves them.
Her invisible NameTag reads "R e c e p t i o n i s t"
Golden tresses framing her face as she smiles warmly up to all that drop by.
Glossy pink lips mouth it's time to go.
Temporary, of course. The former employee is on vacation and they're desperate for a filler.
His husky voice on the other side of the phone line, asking for her help.
"I don't even know you," She said in her head.
How could it be that she's the one. Never been employed.
He was so polite it choked her up, vocals mingling all words into one drawn on hesitant sentence.
"Twelve dollars an hour you say?" And they said she was wasting her life away on the keyboard.
What a romantic she is, they think to themselves in her mind.
She spends hours scribbling down math equations her an attempt to formulate her life.
Map it out. Schedule. She lives by organization.
He wasn't so ready.
Not willing to give up his leap for independence.
He's fearful that she'll be his pillar of confidence, and what happens if she leaves?
She didn't know leaving was an option, and it took her breath away when he said it.
Silly boy and a Silly girl.
Beauty's got a pet coming soon that she loves more then life.
Her little Isaac. Ethiopian child. Her warm loving Angelina Jolie.
Her little boy in the shape of a small furry ball.
He needs to go in for surgery before she can hold him; press kisses to his wet nose.
Some calcification in his kidney, she had said.
"What?"
What a nightmare. Poor thing left in a military drop box.
Dead of night life thieves running into the darkness.
Makes her think of the beginning of the hunchback of notredam.
Bandanna, she spells on paper as she scribbles down sketches of her beloved furkid.
Anything at any price, all of this for you.
What is standing on a beach gazing at the water?
What is leaning against a strong determined frame as he strums his fingers across guitar strings.
What is any of it.
Romance?
Death to Chivalry.
|
|
| Snowdrift |
[05 Jul 2006|06:19pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 blank |
] |
But all I knew then was I had to be away from him, lying in a field somewhere with lupine in my mouth, butterfly wings pressing against my eyelids.
Beauty's desk is littered with paper hearts; all shapes and sizes. Some of them have colorful lines expanding across their surfaces. It provokes thought of what paper they came from; the pens she gripped tightly while cursing under crumpled sheets.
"My pain is ugly," she said.
Her slender pallid fingers traced the barrel of the shotgun oh so carefully; admiring the fine wood detailing. An object of absolute power in her fragile hands. She lent over the end; chest pressed firmly to the tip as she reached down the endless silver to reach the trigger. She wondered about what would happen, what would they think? Her heart like confetti in the aftermath.
"Oh god the aftermath," he had said.
Her random assortment of bracelets jingled about her wrists as she tried to set herself up; watching carefully from behind a veil of gold bangs. The tip of her tongue traced her glossy bottom lip. Her palms were sweaty.
Leader of the Crimson Knights. Server Administrator of "The World."
This is my role model. I adore Subaru, and I want nothing more then to be like her. So gentle and caring; the order of peace. -dream-
Yeah, lame because she's fiction. So what.
Snow came for me thismorning, around one. I escaped into the back of his car. It was nice to see Sheriff there as well, though she'd really been spending the whole week with them. Fourth of July was a bust; a collection of people she didn't know all devouring hot dogs infront of her and talking about things that really didn't seem important. Cheroke came and he only served to depress her; her eyes constantly focused on the floor. She wondered if he knew he did this to her; tormented her. He brought her pain with his constant doubt and insecurity. It was a relief to see Snow and Sheriff; they would make her forget. Devi was there too, but she didn't get the chance to talk to him really.
They didn't do much; flying down roads as her hands gripped anything tightly.
They stopped soon at a 7 eleven. Devi ran into grab a rockstar.
"Do you hunni's want anything" she beamed. "Oh," said Snow. "I want Tea.." Sheriff smiled, "None for me thankyou." "Are you sure?" she asked. Another smile creased her lips, "I know how you love Tea from Arizona." she giggled. "I'll grab two." The man inside seemed happy to see a female for once. "I like your hair," she said smiling again. "I like yours too" he said. They were appreciative later; sipping from the bulging cans. Snows eyes shifted; catching her in their gaze. "I love you," he said. Recently Snow had become unusually fond of her. He had claimed they were going to get married eventually, no matter what. That they'd been engaged since they were born. He asked her where she'd like to get married. Beauty decided at the edge of a forest on a beach; combining both of their favorite places.
At the end of the night he took her home last; she slipped a five next to his seat without telling him. She lived the next town over, so it seemed only right. He didn't let go of her hand the whole car ride home. "Just let me rest here a minute," he said. He wound his arms around here and laid his head on her chest; eyes falling closed. He seemed so light. Beauty stroked the back of Snow's head gently, gazing at the ground. Five minute past and they were still sitting there just like that in the middle of the road. "I'll miss you," she mouthed.
|
|
| We Might As Well Be Strangers |
[30 Jun 2006|11:21am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
sad |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Keane - Is It Any Wonder? |
] |
This could be the end of everything
so why don't we go...
Somewhere only we know.
It's only now that her fingers could be roused to type keys; when the thought of morning has brought tears to her eyes and she is vulnerable. Entries to be criticized and deleted later when her senses return to her, and she's no longer ruled by emotion.
It was as though she had never even met him.
His silky dark hair that she could run her fingers through. Smiling at him warmly. It was a blueprint setup. Her older brother said "Go for it. He asks about you all the time." This lonely stranger? How could that be? She felt like his hands should have snaked away from his body in tree branch formation; that he should be reaching the sky with his head in the clouds. He was milky, and she could have lived off of that. She could have, if she hadn't known better.
His warm voice on the phone was telling her it was okay. If it had a texture, it would be chocolate syrup. The way it filled and soothed, how could she not get addicted to that? She spent the first week asking him every question that possibly came to mind. He liked asian food, he was a horror film junkie like she was. His favorite color was blurple, blue and purple mixed together. She told him hers was purple and gold. He had fears, but not many. He didn't like spiders like hers. He began to call her constantly too, and for a while they never went a day without talking for at least an hour. She couldn't wait anymore. Slipping anxiously into the lightrail. It made her nervous, the eyes of all the other passengers that could see into her intentions. She was escaping, and their hearts escaped with her every inch she moved.
He wouldn't let her go, and her hands seemed to find the perfect spots to rest on his sides; above his protruding hip bones. He was slick, Light eyes dark hair trim frame tuggable lips. He held the knowledge of the universe behind aqua candy eyes and thick black lashes. In her mind, she was pulling them apart; leaning over his cheek and into his crystaline hues. She couldn't see the whole thing; a whole factory of interesting things she couldn't wait to explore. He rested his head on her shoulder and they watched the river for the whole afternoon. Sour skittles stung her lips and he stayed close, laughing with her and contemplating future adventures. He showed her his wings and she purred in his ear. They ate chinese food and explored and no one asked questions because they were the untouchable. He was her b e s t f r i e n d.
When she found him, he couldn't feel. Hungry ice queens had devoured him after eating through his shields like acid. He had no emotion; just endless knowledge with which to relay only to her ears. She didn't care about his past, only helping his future. She could encourage him to finish school; push him to excel in his abilities and to go for his dreams. She could coax him to stop smoking or drinking and to be aware of reality. She tugged him out of this ball and pulled him up into reality. He said that she could make him feel things. Something happened then, she began to need him.
Need like air or lip gloss, plums; pomegranate. She needed his voice and his pressing words like sand at the beach; late night Denny's adventures. She didn't feel right without it. Maybe he knew, and that's why it happened.
Every night she began to fall asleep with him on the phone; slumber invoked by his gentle breathing. Knowing he was there was all she needed. His secret presence whispering how he wished he could hold her right then. Her dreams were always of her best friend, the one that would always be there for her. Her constant. Her completion. They talked for hours every night, still, and her phone bill was too big but it was worth any price. She didn't care then about paper or jewelry or clothes. It was fortunes and astrology and his hand held out to her. He confronted her about her intentions, and all she could do was whisper quietly into the phone that she loved him. She didn't wait for an answer, and sleep didn't come that night.
The next day he did the unthinkable and confessed he returned her love whole heartedly. This was her happy ending, her escape. With him she felt she could get past secret conflicts and move on to a more promising future. He could read your soul, tell you exactly what you were thinking or feeling. He could always read her, and she loved not having to say anything outloud. He said her eyes spoke to him. One night he called her, and it was regular.
There was something different in his voice. He asked her hypothetical questions and then took them back; with a modest tone. They weren't hypothetical. "You kissed a married woman," she said without breath. He said he hadn't meant for it to happen. That he's known her since he lived in Tennessee. She had come down to visit him when her husband left to Iraq. He didn't mean for it to happen, but it did a week and a half prior to this discussion. Right around the time he gave his heart. Still, we all make mistakes. There was nothing official, how could she hold that against him? She could have gotten past it then. He said "You know how I mentioned Shivers? When you're around someone that makes you tremble with feeling. She does that to me." Her eyes widened and she sunk back into the chair. "You love her??" she said. He didn't answer. "She's married!" Still silence. "Yell at me," he said. "Tell me all the things you think about me. I want to hear it." he added. "I won't give you that release," she whispered.
He said that he did love her, and that he thought she loved him to. That he felt guilty, but he was willing to wait for her to leave her husband. He didn't know if he would ever meet someone else that could make him feel like that, and her heart began to splinter. She said that if he did this, she couldn't wait around and watch; that it would hurt. He said he didn't want to hurt her anymore. He said his brain felt like it was boiling; he couldn't see. He couldn't think. They spoke until five in the morning. He said it was best that no one got close to him; that after this he planned on feeling nothing once more. She began to cry; watching the floor and rocking back and forth while she listened. She couldn't not move. The only thing she could relate it with was being slugged in the chest by a sledge hammer, and when you're wounded you can't stop moving. Almost as though motion will distract you from your pain. She hadn't been enough, and it hurt.
What was worse is he sounded.. okay. He wasn't upset like her. He spoke casually about this girl; mentioning how she had made his life. All the wonderful things she did for him. He was okay with leaving, and all she thought she knew crumbled. He laughed, and she could see his sneer. He was remorseful that they would never have their conversations, but obviously this other woman was all that he could think of. He kept repeating that he didn't mean for this; that I shouldn't have gotten close to him. She began hunting and found the woman's myspace. There was really no information, generic. She liked music and movies and was vague about everything. She could tell this woman was cliche; long walks on the beach, roses, loves a guy with a sense of humor. It made her sick; how could she mean so little compared to this woman. This was the face of her fear. She had been afraid, and this was the result with blonde hair and legs.
Slowly, she began to feel numb. "It's okay. Really." she said. "I hope you find everything you're looking for. It was my mistake, I shouldn't have loved you." He paused. He could read her still, but it didn't matter anymore. "Can I fall asleep like this one more time.. I feel so much better.." He became desperate. "Let me have time to think about this," he said. "I just need to rest my mind." "Go ahead," she said. It was cold. She fell asleep at some point, clutching the phone in her hand. He called her, later. It was 10:36p.m Monday June 26, 2006. She would never know what he wanted to talk about. His text read that he was releasing her from the pain he inflicted. He wouldn't do it anymore.
She didn't need to say anything. Merely deleted it and went about her day. Still, such longing. When you invest your everything into making something work it's hard to step back and watch it crumble. Would he finish school and fix his car. Would she leave her husband? Would it be worth it to him. Would he stay up like her missing what was no longer there.
It didn't matter, because she never even knew him.
Is it any wonder that I'm tired?
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight?
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right?
Oh, these days, after all the misery you made
Is it any wonder that I feel afraid?
Is it any wonder that I feel betrayed?
|
|
| Its Your Fate But It's Not Your Fault |
[29 Jun 2006|11:26pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 giggly |
] |
Someone somewhere has unglued our epoxy, and now I'm kissing you by proxy.. Hope you don't mind..
Her heart felt like the same pile of feathers that had greeted her so long ago. A collection of unresolved anticipation. It tore her breath from her lips in rushed gasps as she struggled to keep her world down. Her dreams swallowed with candy sprinkles and chocolate syrup.
All the spike woven children covered in black cloth and face paint. Desperate for some unknown release. Expectation in fishnet and black mascara. The door parted for her, then, and she wandered down the carpeted floor slant. Bright amber hues moved nervously around the hall, sticken by all the devouring stares of her peers.
He turned then, pallid face unmasked by ebon hair. Glowing eyes issued danger and need, fixed on her approaching frame. This is who she'd been looking for. He faced her now, and there was nothing stopping her. Pushing herself into him and against the wall. His hands lifted, hurried, fingers gliding through her hair. Hers had already framed his face, taking him in close as her head tilted just so, lips meshing into his. A perfect fit, glossy pink and deliciously addicting.
She couldn't spare an inch distance between them; it had felt like her soul was reaching the entire time they were apart, drawing her closer and closer and now it couldn't let go. Transparent nothing, molding into one another unseen by hard pressed bodies. Eyes now half-lidded to catch the fading gaze from his, smiling to his lips as she pulled away. Hands searching for anything to bring him closer; thumbs smoothing over the sides of his cheeks; forehead now pressed to his. He pulled her into him; searching her for anything lost since he had last insured her safety. They exhaled, surpressing laughter before delving back into another kiss; lip tugging and gentle nips. The room was smokey, fading, and they were shining.
How odd they could know so much and so little.
His hands finally slid down her sides, waking up into reality. All the envious eyes still staring as he pulled her beside him and they began their walk. All the beautiful people had nothing on this; hidden gentle caresses and subtle whispers full of meaning and heart. She stayed close, not daring to venture far from her only protector; fingers tilted beneath the hem of his black shirt. This was the only time she could feel safe, complete.
His eyes said he would let nothing take her away as she gazed fondly up into him beside velvet curtains in a dim lit room.
Hey you..
Shes made of hair and bone and little teeth
And things I cannot speak
She comes on like a crippled plaything
Spine is just a string
I wrapped our love in all this foil
Silver-tight like spider legs
I never wanted it to ever spoil
But flies will always lay their eggs
Take your hatred out on me
Make your victim my head
You never ever believed in me
I am your tourniquet
Prosthetic synthesis with butterfly
Sealed up with virgin stitch
If it hurts, just tell me
Preserve the innocence
I never wanted it to end this way
But flies will lay their eggs
|
|
| Go Ask Violet. |
[28 Jun 2006|11:13pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
depressed |
] |
Something horrible has happened, and the words cannot be uttered nor typed.
A tragedy, and fingers fall limp on cold keys.
Perhaps soon the words will find themselves stretched through pallid weak arms.
Until then, please find forgiveness..
|
|
| F i g h t[Fight] |
[26 Jun 2006|07:56pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
confused |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Marilyn Manson - Fight Song |
] |
When Beauty went to sleep she thought of BrightEyes.
He was beside her, just like before.
It was delicious forbidden addictive.
When she awoke, she found this message from him.
Awww...
Your so sweet...
I slept until three...
In the embrace of the comfy bed...
I slept very well...
And...
I woke in a good mood...
The only thing that would have made it better...
Would have been if the kitten was there...
That kitten in the shape of a cute girl...
But...
I guess I can't have that all the time...
...
I relize now that I do have happy thoughts...
They are not all bad...
...
I'm sure I'll get to that later...
-----------------
What could it mean, Beauty wondered.
At least it was something.
|
|
| Tiger Striped Cat |
[26 Jun 2006|03:48pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
lonely |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Hot Hot Heat - Bandages |
] |
These are the eyes that greeted me in the morning the other day. When my curiosity served to bring me into his room and onto that bed. He rolled carefully over and watched me, smiling. He's really quite gentle, despite the cold appearance his eyes give off. I feel like when I look at them, if I lean too far in I could just fall into the blue. It's really very vibrant.
He sent me a message, and it said this..
It was very nice to spend that time with you...
We should definately talk more...
I think you're an awesome person...
And...
I am glad...
That me and my kind did not scare you off...
Oh yeah...
Usually when I wake up...
I am nearly homicidal...
But not when you woke me up...
That makes you special...
We only talked for hours. I said "I have to leave now." He said "What?" and turned and glanced at the clock. "Yeah, I'm sorry." I said. I didn't want to stop talking either. Like I had to pour my soul out and into him for him to feel and understand. It made me feel so much better. I don't know why I meet these people so randomly. The people that I can actually get attached to. It's not even a romantic thing. I can't visualize myself being romantically involved with BrightEyes, but I still feel like I could depend on him for alot of things.
I can see coming home from work and finding him waiting. Or washing dishes together. Staying up late watching rented blockbuster video's. Shivering on bridges from our fear of heights and open bodies of water. Going on all the best rides at the fairs. He seems like just another me. Double Trouble. Why is it that I'm able to think of these things? These thoughts should be of Cheroke, or Snow! I keep getting attached to more and more people lately. I just like BrightEyes because he's so cold but still such a gentle soul. He's not a "bad boy" like I tend to go for. He's alot like me. So what can I say when I daydream of battling him with fluffy down pillows and sitting in starbucks sipping on hot cocoa. I want to help him. Help him what, get clean?
Help him forget about drugs because he won't need them if I can take care of him? He says he uses them just to forget. Maybe I can help him remember, help him get past it. I can stop him from cutting himself just so he can feel. I have such sympathy and devotion for this cause. For this feline in the shape of a boy. He's older, anyway. Nearly twenty one. I want to walk somewhere with him and have him pick a flower for me. Play on playground equipment and stay up at night giggling to Family Guy or something. He's had loves before, nearly married. I wouldn't be surprised. I don't feel like Beauty when I talk to him, I just feel like myself. I'm just me, and he's just him. I can be realistic, completely myself. I told Goethic that BrightEyes and me will go up to Santa Cruz to see him.
I thought about that thismorning.. I have the money. We could go and see him, but then BrightEyes wants to stay and live there. I would have to leave him behind and come home by myself. I wondered if he would let me do that, if he would let himself. I wondered if I would let him come back knowing he was better off there. I think it would be hard getting to know someone completely and caring so much for them and then just letting them go before anything real could actually happen. Sad, but it's reality.
No matter what happens, this is my adventure.
For some reason, this whole situation reminds me of that story I once heard.
The story of the Tiger Striped Cat..
There once was a tiger-striped cat. This cat died a million deaths, revived and lived a million lives. And he was owned by various people, whom he didn't really care for. The cat wasn't afraid to die. Then one day the cat became a stray cat(which meant it was free). He met a white female cat and the two of them spent their days together, happily.
Well, years passed and the white cat grew weak and died of old age. The tiger-striped cat cried a million times and then he died too, except this time, he didn't come back to life.
Somebody tell me what this means, and what I should do..
|
|
| Mad House |
[25 Jun 2006|03:41pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
loved |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
The White Stripes - Fell In Love With A Girl |
] |
"Heroin's my new name 'cause I'm the Dopest."
"Fiberglass Monkey with Glowing Red Eyes."
Drink up.. It's last call, last resort, but only the first mistake..
"I am the god of f--," he choked. That was much too late.
Beauty had been to a place unimaginable in the small yet broad comprehension she has of reality.
She used to find herself drowning in a sea of drugs and alcohol; none consumed by herself of course. Watching all her newfound family fall over in the grass holding on to something that they wished could be more permanent. It was a long time past since she left that. Them.
Snow found Beauty in the mall they used to frequent. It was empty; a few shoppers idling by past hottopic where they stood motionless. It was as though even if all the action was gone the walls still posessed memories that could project themselves through their eyes. Crowds of eager girls scrambling in and out of the shop with fishnet shirts and heavy boots. Her own snaked up her legs, tightly laced. A dog collar nearly choking her; tags proclaiming someone elses ownership of her. Black fingernails and electric lips. Sleek black hair. C a p t i v a t i o n.
Here Beauty stood transformed; long blonde hair and smokey eyeshadow, blush and sandals. Still for taste her short lace fringed skirt and black tights were not left unnoticed. Snow held her close for a moment. Several taco bell trips and three mountain dews later they were off to his house where Batman Begins could be played. They snuggled up in the softest blanket she'd ever felt and before she knew it she was a sleeping beauty. Woken by some inkling she was being watched Beauty stretched; eyes flickering open. A strange face greeted her, though so familiar. His dirty blonde hair and deep set eyes he watched her for a moment and said, "Who are you?" "..Beauty," she said tiredly as she sat up. What had happened to Snow? "I'm Ian," he said. Snow was off talking to another boy who she later found out was named Matt. A boy BrightEyes walked in followed by Tripp. She had met both of them before and adored them both as much as a girl can adore boys she hardly knows, and yet can realize they're good people.
Pizza's were consumed and cigarettes smoked, jokes told. Beauty merely watched, interupting only to ask how they were or if they needed anything. She constantly gave out hugs and compliments and reassurence. BrightEyes let Beauty borrow his favorite shirt, so They went swimming and they took turns tossing her around; water crystals thrown through the night sky. The hot tub was of little comfort. "Feel better," Beauty smiled to Ian. "What's wrong with you," Ian asked. "He means he doesn't understand why you're so kind. We're used to W-H-O-R-Eable girls." Beauty frowned. "They're not all bad. They love you." He smiled gently, "Yeah that's the problem. Go make them stop for us, won't you?" She laughed beneath her breath. Josh let her slip into his extra pants to keep warm, and it made her only more holdable. It had taken a while, but Beauty was accepted as trustworthy in the eyes of these boys. They taught her so many things, including nicknames and how to avoid getting killed by a zombie. Ages 17-21. They had all remained the same since she had seen them last. Covered in fishnet and black paint, heavy makeup and black straight hair. Emaciated without reason they devoured anything they could get their hands on. They were boys with their magic tricks and addictions. Hopeless romantics yet appropriately aloof. During the course of this evening they drank endless quantities of alcohol and smoked pack after pack of cigarettes. All sitting around speaking of their problems for Beauty to awe about with comforting hand strokes.
Ian was different in that he was fearless. A very big guy, and very intimidating. He said, "I'm holding back comments I might usually make because I actually like you." He had gone through a few rough past relationships but had a car and a possibility of a future unlike many of them. over the course of the night Beauty caught him watching her, but it was more amusing then anything. It would never work out. No family life was shared except that he had recently moved into his own place and was extremely bitter about the way his loves have treated him.
Tripp was one of the colors. His was green, so that became his nickname for many to use. He was almost the most thin of them all. Made even more apparent by his height. His dilemma is the only relatives he has are in another city far away, and he's desperate not to have to go back. Having lived with Snow for over a year wherever that might be. He's a nice boy, if only a little misguided. He would be better off with his family to get a good start. His smile is addicting. Long black hair reaching down his chest, and he always makes Beauty smile. He'd been living at the White Trash Island they had set up before this house.
White Trash Island was set up by someone having found out a house was on a two acre lot that was going to be demolished so two houses could be built and sold. This meant at least a year of living space for these kids to test the waters. Most of them worked and brought in income for anything the house might need. There were eight officially living there, but usually about fourteen were around at a time, and at least three were smoking at all times. This house was trashed by the seventh month. Paint and sharpie covering the walls. Burnt flags and fabric hung everywhere. Floor stained with alcohol and anything else you could imagine. Beds shredded no useable furniture. Burnt corners and holes as far as the eye can see. It was still a home to them, and they bonded. When Beauty mentioned her interest in having seen the place herself they all exhaled in relief, followed by "I'm so glad you didn't. That's no place for you to be." They had all ended up getting kicked out and had found other means for housing.
Snow has already been explained. Simple. A beautiful young boy with endless hopes but no way of accomplishing them. Maybe it would be okay if he stayed with his family forever, or found some way by the grace of god to join with his friends.
Matt as far as Beauty could tell was a good person. Though she couldn't tell if he was wearing eyeliner or not. He's the eldest at twenty one, but looks the youngest. Also thin with short blonde hair he was darling. He had gone to a similar kindercare school as Beauty, and had learned respect at young age. He was the most acomidating, perceptive to the needs of others. In the end, Beauty got a hug from him before he left.
A man shortly after showed up who Beauty cared nothing for. He was bitter, worked over by the grief of the world and that's not his fault. However, letting it compell him to torture the lives of others is. He made fun of everyone there, and sneered at any comments that seemed less then adequate for his brain potential. Beauty walked out onto the pateo with Snow. "So Snow," he said. "Do you get along better with this girl when she has your c-- in her mouth?" Beauty laughed out loud, amazed. What a poor poor sad man, he was. Her brief anger turned into pity.
The night was continuous with conversation and Marilyn Manson background music. Talks about card games and Adult Swim shows and the past present and future. It was as though if they stopped talking the world would end, and none of them wanted that at that point in time. Empty beer bottles covered the tables that Beauty stared at in surprise. These were all wonderful beautiful boys that only through misfortune had become miserable. They were not drinking for fun, but rather to forget. Trying to force it all into their pasts.
Shortly after they went to bed. Beauty laying across the couch bed while Snow held her hand. Her eyes were closed, but she fould feel the texture of his cheek; his warm lips pressing kisses. "Is it alright if I come over and hold you for a few minutes?" he asked. He did. She let her cheek rest against his chest; so smoothe it reminded her of rubber. Warm and comforting, she didn't mind. Even though Rose Red and Cheroke remained close behind in her mind. Beauty would never let herself trip that boundry.
In the morning Beauty was the first to awake, running the comb through her hair and staring at herself hard in the mirror. She couldn't help but smile. Twirling in her skirt to make sure it looked okay; chewing on minty gum. Snow's mother stopped by and complimented her hair, winking in Snow's direction. BrightEyes still had not been roused from his slumber. He had drank the most that morning, and had taken the master bedroom.
While the others were distracted she found herself at that door. Exhaling against the white painted wood of the door she let her fingers gently turn the handle. The door came open quietly; and the coolest breeze welcomed her heated skin. Stepping as quietly in as she could Beauty closed the door behind her. Only upon the balls of her feet she slipped into the room; the bell around her neck only gently tempted. There he was, laying under cold looking blankets in this huge luxurious bed. She crawled carefully onto the edge of the bed and smiled at his back. Slowly he turned over; black-maroon hair falling from the way of his eyes as he smiled at her. This was BrightEyes. He was one of her favorites, even though this was just the second time she'd met him. His eyes were the most vibrant blue she's seen next only to Purple's. Surrounded by pale black eyeliner it made them appear unending. "Are you going to sleep all day?" she asked. "It's just past one now, dear." He stretched and murred quietly. Beauty slipped under the blankets beside him when he placed a pillow next to his. That's when the questions started, as many as she could think of. Bright eyes was unique, and hard to explain.
Turning 21 in September he looked only 18. A one eyed gypsy warned him he would die on or by his twenty first birthday. Which, he could not remember. Brighteyes has had one of the more difficult lives, having been kicked out by his mother and dropping out of Highschool. No dreams or ambitions he dreams only to move to Santa Cruz to be homeless with some of his friends. His favorite color turned out to be red, though he claimed only to wear black. He has been cheated on by more then few of his ex girlfriends the most recent being a girl leaving him for a drug junkie she could do drugs with. If he could have any pet, it would be a ferret. His most interesting dream would be stuck in a nowhere town with his mother and seeing no other people to talk to. A girl picked him up on the side of the road asking for help finding homes for kittens. He tried to convince her there was no one else around and she said, "You're right. Those kittens aren't really here. Neither am I." He glanced at the kittens and they were gone, back at her and she was vanished with no one driving the car. He gripped the wheel to help turn it but smashed into a telephone pole. As it turned out he had not been in the car at all, walking by and having seen the wreck it was all in his head.
He lived with his girlfriend in Woodland for a short period of time, but it didn't work out. She spoke in tongues, which is self explanitory. His worst fear is to be alone forever, though he can't find someone to make it work with. He longs to confess his adoration for a former highschool friend that now works at International Imports. He was full of fascinating information that left Beauty by his side for two hours. He was self destructive, cutting himself only deep enough to leave marks and recently having had a bad spill with White Trash Island. Nine stitches in the palm of his hand and a respect worthy gash. Though his worst injury had been from a dog attack as a small boy, giving him thirty two stitches in his face and two reconstruction surgeries. He said he drank and did drugs now because he feared without them he would find insanity close behind. He claimed, showing Beauty with his fingers just how close he was to rock bottom. She could feel the fear radiating from him. BrightEyes is a very literate, articulate individual deserving only respect inspite of his bad decisions. Beauty gave him the most hugs goodbye. When she closed her eyes, Beauty could see herself living with BrightEyes. Washing the dishes and keeping the place clean before running into the livingroom to watch rented movies with him. Candles everywhere. She told him about her plans for the perfect bed in the hideaway bedroom only for them. She felt like she could sleep by his side forever, though she knew she wouldn't.
Fate could not be so kind.
After all, what about Snow?
What about Cheroke?
Cheroke answered the phone when Beauty got home. He was asleep, at three in the afternoon. She could tell he had probably gotten drunk the night before as well. "How are you?" she asked. "Good." he said. Apparently after work he had gone with all of his friends to get pizza and then party at one of their houses that he walked home from at some early morning hour. "I'm so sorry if you tried to call," she said. "My phone was completely dead." "I didn't," he said. "Oh.."
What time are we upon and where do I belong?
|
|
| Stuck In Dreamland |
[24 Jun 2006|11:13am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
numb |
] |
Beauty's dreams tormented her reality. Her body ached from tossing and turning; and her arm was nearly frozen from the air conditioner making it appear even more white. She could still feel the sand at the bottom of the bed with her toes, and knew she'd have to change the sheets that day. What she could remember was so jumbled up. Slumberparties, and some well known gorgeous actor appearing at her apparent mansion in the middle of the night because he missed her. Picking Beauty up into his arms as though she weighed nothing, which in turn meant everything.
Where was her real love, though. He had no legs in this place. He wheeled himself bitterly around as Beauty watched and her mother commented. "I don't know what happened to him," she had said. In the dream she was going to be late to college, and wound up being late to wake up. What did this one mean? At this point there were no need for dream dictionaries and fake theories made up by wannabe psychiatrists.
The only blood from the previous night left was embedded in her fingernails and overpowering her cudicals. There were no rings on her legs or artistic designs across her swim suit bottom. Thoughts of what had ocurred last night didn't really phaze her. "Numb," she whispered into the phone. It was the only word she could think of to describe herself then. Numb, and it would hurt him because she was so full of feeling before. Beauty's head tilted in a fluffed pillow, clawed body woven in blankets as though she too was part of the tapestry. The first breath of fresh air flowing between parted lips in a gasp as she murred a hello into the cellphone. It had been Cheroke, at work. She spent the night until the early morning with him watching movies and making dinner. Orange chicken, rice, and teriyaki noodles with six cans of mountain dew jello and coconut cream pie. Delicious Delicious. Now it was coming back..
Beauty was distraught, trembling into the corner of the sofa. "Even if it would make my WORLD to be with you I CANNOT do that to him!" He was unforgiving, something about how some piece of him had died then. It stung Beauty to a point she hadn't felt since she was very young. A piercing burning she couldn't leave alone, making her wanting to fly out into the night to find him. Push him down and heal whatever she had marred. Beauty immagined herself twisted in the back of his car; simply holding him. Her head bent to his shoulder while she soothingly stroked fingertips through his hair. There was no word from him since then, and the lack of text messages was discouraging. She wondered if this was it, and if it was; at least she had n u m b.
|
|
| Lotus-Blossom Princess |
[24 Jun 2006|03:15am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 tired |
] |
A siren screamed: 'She's gone! She's gone!'
Beauty felt like a porcelain doll after it's face and limbs have been shattered by an unintended fall. The cement is a harsh place for a doll to find itself, and she wasn't one of the lucky ones. Propped up against a dusty wall she glanced down at herself. Fingernails and hands covered in blood; the same rusty brown caked on her legs without a clue as to how it got on her.
This is the definition of devistation, she thought to herself. Beauty and her desolate condition. Dependant and heart broken. There was just so much blood. It came in waves, but from where?
Dim honey suckle hues rolled back and glanced forward toward the ceiling from behind half-lidded lashes. Full rounded lips falling parted; head rolling to the side just slightly. Timid pallid fingers nervously exploring her knees while she gathers what's left of her thoughts.
"I thought he had taken my soul.."
Beauty's cell lit up again with the threat of incoming text messages. All would be from Snow, she knew. It was a few feet across the stained carpet from her, and she no longer had the energy or the will to grasp it. She rolled onto her knees; forehead to the floor keeping her stable as she forced the still fleeting thoughts from her mind. His desperate words serving only as a reminder of only a few hours prior.
An anxious Beauty talking lovingly into the telephone and how drastically the tone changed from the other end. Snow was vicious this time, as she knew he might be. Yelling, almost. He may as well have been. Something about second best and being hurt and resenting "this" ever happening. Beauty pleaded, only to be met by the chilling dial tone. "That's all you had to say," she told him. "I'm not coming back this time.."
Now he had changed his mind, but Beauty couldn't fall for his deceptive ways any longer.
Here she was in shambles, with no idea which pieces to pick up.
|
|
| M a n i f e s t [Destiny] |
[22 Jun 2006|05:07pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
apathetic |
] |
A disengaged Beauty like a tattered doll; scattered across her bed. Carefully bringing the phone to her ear with renewed hope. "Hello," she said. "Want to go to the beach?" He replied.
Twenty minutes later Beauty slid into the back of Snow's car.
He was warm as ever; smiling to her from the front. Sheriff was there as well, sitting beside her like he always did on these short adventures. She relaxed backward; hand holding the seatbelt. Suddenly another boy from the front seat turned and rested his chin on the back of his seat; smiling at her through his sunglasses. "Hi I'm Devi," he said while holding out his paw. Beauty took it imediately, "Beauty," she said. She refers to his hands as paws because to her Devi is catlike. A feline boy like she's feline. Nails sharpened to points and painted mauve. Sharp teeth and a nimble body. "You have me to thank for letting you come on this trip, you know. You better leave a lasting impression." He grinned once more. It wouldn't be a problem. Beauty mouthed something to Sheriff, but he could never hear. "She says she doesn't even know you and she still loves you, Devi." He said just to tease. Devi smiled and Snow turned his head. "You love me?" Snow asked. "I love you." Beauty smiled. They laughed, but Beauty simply glanced out the window to hide the smile from her knowing. How honest she was being, and how they'd never know.
It was a long trip, starting in Roseville and destined for Vallejo. Sheriff slid into the front seat and Devi got in back with her; frequenting rest stops for fresh breaths and directions. Y o u a r e h e r e the point on the laminated map teased. Snow's hand brushed over Beauty's as he stood behind her; and after a few moments he let it fall back to his side. This trip was for good behavior. Beauty climbed into the tree to chase the flightless birds.
They continued on for hours, having just decided to go with whatever happened. Sitting parked in the cold dust in an abandoned parklot for a reservation tour. Having chased away all the baby bobcats watching tirelessly from their dens. The mountains surrounding looked like sleeping giants; devious beasts slayed by earths inevitable destruction. At any moment they would come alive; letting the shrubs fall from their shoulders and sweep these four away like they were nothing. Four small spirits fueled by the knowledge nothing can happen because they are immortal; they have futures. Walking down a pitch black pathway mastering the Wizard of Oz skip and calming eachothers insatiable curiosities. A huge ominous barn threatened their journey; signaling their wandering from the small road. Sheriff taking Beauty's hand and keeping her at the wide ebon mouth; pray for anything that felt the impulse. In Beauty's mind it was a man with a chainsaw, flying at them through the dark and seperated only by the small wire fence.
Back on the path dirt miles later gave way to sand; Beauty's shoes slipping but now it was in her veins. The ocean was calling and she wouldn't fail it. Legs forced onward by the reaching tides. They all ran out into the sand and threw it up in the air. Darkness having consumed all but the endless glow of the water. Lit up with magic and pearls and sea creatures no one could ever find. They chased the waves back into the body and ran wildly backward as it gripped their feet. Beauty splashed and taunted, begging the ocean to claim her if that's what it wanted. In reply a huge wave washed over her legs, nearly bringing her to her knees. Soaked close fit levi's would have meant excruciating pain had it not been for the tights she wore from the skirt earlier that day. Refreshed and liquidated they collapsed on the beach; all gazing at the stars.
They couldn't stay there forever even if they wanted to; lapping salt from the towering rock walls and excavating caves at their bases. Beauty dug up a shell she could later make into a necklace that would bring her to that place whenever she needed. Snow was never far behind, holding her hand and leading her or taking her into his arms in secret loving moments, only when the eyes of the Sheriff and Devi couldn't find them.
The ride home was much different. Manifest Destiny. Creating their own, and victim to the will of some higher power. Led to places that shouldn't exist and endless circles; gripped by the wills of cities and late night lights. A sea stained beauty wandering into a gas station and finding the only directions that could be had at four in the morning. Devi who she had just met earlier was now her responsibility; hers to protect. Clinging to her legs with his arms while his face hid in her hand; the other soothingly stroking his shoulder. She was not oppposed to falling asleep on him either; laying her head to his side and resting peacefully. Arms always around eachother, always always because there is nothing you can't face when given the warmth from someone else.
Snow told stories of amazing things he's experienced; how it will all be laced in a book someday. How his friend lost the love of his life to death and how the funeral nearly killed him. How he got a phone call from her three weeks later and her presence on his front step made him nearly pass out. How her father had staged her death because he hated her. Snow posesses endless information, so it's no wonder all gravitate toward that. All, especially Beauty.
She was the last to be let off; clinging to his hand. Snow always left Beauty feeling like a helpless child, so dependant of his presence when it was hers to be had. He wouldn't let her go when she had to depart. Beauty hoped he never would. Waking up to a sand filled bed, serving as the reminder of where she was and how it really happened.
|
|
| Your Love In Leather. |
[21 Jun 2006|02:12pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
contemplative |
] |
It's rarely that Beauty ventured out into the world, but when she did she was glamorous.
Platinum blonde hair that reaches down the slopes of her neck with golden roots that hint angelic contours. Trim glitter painted nails that lead up slender pallid hands. Jutting collar bones to 32C breasts to toned stomache and protruding hip bones covered only by her intriquite skirts. Shapely thin legs and high heel sandals. "Hello Barbie," the man at the gas station says. It's what he calls Beauty when each morning the compulsion for energy drives her to purchase rockstars.
She always smiles and tells him to have a wonderful day in return for such small boosts in self esteem.
Glossy pouted lips coated in the tangy venom of lemons. Thick ebon eyelashes flickering over amber hues; thin eyebrows and a perfectly scolpted jaw. Envious girls tugging on imperfections. What are they envious of, Beauty wonders. Beauty is still not enough for the only one that matters. Instead she dodges into alleys to avoid closely following trucks and fakes phone conversations when asked if she needs a ride anyplace. Beauty has the whole world mapped for her simple escapes.
Snow starts falling from her thoughts with the passing of time. He holds her wrists and tells her how their reality is crumbling. That the world is not real, and they exist only on a level of simple communication with one another; and that is why they can talk. Everything else is brain waves and science fiction. It's all in our heads. Our minds. Of which we use 10%, he adds. Then he's gone and she doesn't see him for what feels like weeks. Resting her head on her hand in anticipation; thinking of a boat house. A small cottage flipped onto it's roof and drifting atop the ocean; watching fish fly by the windows as it teeters to and fro. She's a dreamer.
He mentioned going to the ocean. The beach, and that he wanted her to go with him, escape for that night. All that morning she waited in complete anxious anxiety. Had he forgotten her? Fingertips tracing meaningless designs on the step next to her; a car that would never pull up in front. Something burns in Beauty's chest when Snow lies to her; a hunger for some kind of fulfillment. She struggles not to dial Secret's number. At least he wouldn't fail her. He would keep her company and make her smile which is what Beauty always needs then. But She doesn't feel for Secret like he wants to her too, and so always at the end of the night she wishes to put his happiness back together like puzzle pieces. Always at the end of the night she's still thinking of Snow.
Beauty stays up too late reading stories of her future. Orbs scanning the community journal she belongs to, reading tales of her sisters' pasts and realizing her own fate. The fate that comes with falling for the unobtainable. They said, "He liked to mess around with alot of girls, but he seemed to really care about me." It's all over the tv sets the radio's, in magazines and newspapers. It's in text books and sit coms. This isn't the place Beauty wanted to find herself, desperate for some kind of reassurance. She had the advantage of knowing in advance that *this* is who Snow is. He is a charmer, a charismatic murderer. He is stubborn and quick whitted and strong. He has crystaline eyes kissable lips and long arms perfect for holding Beautiful bodies. He hides behind a "They missunderstood my kindness" attitude that rips girls hearts in two. Snow's been there to see it happen time after time after time. Witness and victim, though unknown to Snow.
She smiles and holds his hand and whispers to him that they were just unlucky, and they were. Unlucky like Beauty will always be. Perhaps that's why she's so understanding.
Laying against Snow's bedroom wall shaping glay into a cube to carve a heart into it's surface. Scribbling her fictional heart in green color pencil onto scrap paper for him to find later, or writing I miss you in sharpie on his wall with all the other signatures from loveless forgotten girls.
What's wrong with Cheroke anyway, Beauty wonders. He's perfect, and that's the problem. Maybe too perfect. Everyone loves Cheroke, and it's not as though he's not had his fair share of princesses tugging at him to rip him away. Deep set ocean green eyes. Long tan arms with upkept nails so he can play the guitar only perfectly. Sore throat stinging from singing to all the cheering peers; reaching out for this tall man with dark hair that brushes his eyelids and covers his eyebrow piercing with his most delicious pink lips.
Beauty swoons still, thinking about how Cheroke first lulled her with his amazing vocabulary and poetic nature before he actually got his hands on her. framing her porcelain features with his palms; hypnotizing eyes holding hers in a gaze she could never break from even if she had tried, and she didn't.
Beauty is lucky.
|
|
| Black Like Her Heart She Says. |
[20 Jun 2006|12:34pm] |
When Beauty is around Cheroke she feels as though she's lying to Snow.
It doesn't matter that Snow has Rose Red, his most recent of undercover Ice Queen Glam Girls.
What matters is that Beauty knows she belongs someplace else.
In another universe, maybe. Underneath the sea.
She lowers herself into the pool to forget the touches; wash away her brief.
It's not that Cheroke is a bad person, and in her heart she knows she could never cause him pain; even if it meant her own unhappiness. This made her bitter, hardened toward him.
He lowers his lips to her eart and speaks sweet nothings while her soft amber hues watch the fence. In her mind; Snow's coming to get her.
When she leaves; he really is looking for her.
Snow takes Beauty into his arms and gives her a gigantic hug and she forgets everything else.
When Snow's driving, she feels as though she could die that way. Waiting for her life to happen.
Maybe if he just flew into a rivine. He mentions the ocean and her heart flutters.
They traverse the night, Beauty Snow and the others.
He never walks past without reaching out to touch her; making sure she's still there.
Snow worries genuinely for Beauty's safety, and she knows with him nothing can touch her.
They're sitting outside an old brick house in his gently humming car. All eyes on the swastica built into the brick surface above a tiny attic window. The window is ebon and represenative of all evil that can consume minds like theirs.
Another car of the same flies by at two in the morning. It stops; and it's us in an alternate universe. We all knew it. They followed us and we followed them. Daring, devious. Maybe Snow needed a fight to get it out of his system. To play, he swirved the car and jumped out with a lead pipe. Dragging it on the ground behind him; slender pallid hand gripping the handle. Their car stopped; brights on and backed up faintly. His aqua eyes narrowed and watched them; they werent expecting an angel to come after them. An angel with protruding hip bones, two toned hair and long fingernails.
We chased eachother through the night and they took off. That was only the beginning.
When he drops her off all the others run down to the train tracks Beauty's wandered countless times. A soft smile catches her lips; having memorized what they're seeing for the first time. Snow wraps his arms around her and picks her up. He's so strong and fragile at the same time. For a moment, she's envious of Rose Red and all the others. F l a s h b a c k. He looked at her through the rear view mirror, "Do you think I use people?" She glanced down, afraid. This is what she was afraid of. He had brought the inevitable out into the open, because when it came down to it she was simply a silly girl with an attachment of the loving kind. "I think it's easy for things to be missinterpreted," Beauty said. He seemed accepting of this.
Beauty tore off her swimsuit top and threw herself under the covers; tattered levi covered legs dangling out from the side. She anticipated dreams because at least in them she could find the freedom she so desperately desired.
"Beauty," Snow said. He was beside her bed; looking down at her thoughtfully. She groaned and twisted, tangled in the sheets. "Beauty you have to get up," he said. "I've found a gigantic black widow in your covers." She lept then and hurled herself out of bed; quick to her feet. There Snow was, holding two extended legs of the black arachnid. "It's in some kind of transe," Snow said. Beauty left the room and wandered outside. Fingers laced with hers jerked her forward. She ran with Snow and jumped in his car and before she knew it they were at a random hotel. In the diner, she glanced out the window to see at the hotel across the street there was a cat walking the ledge. A small squirrel was trying to get away; searching for an escape but finding none. It ended up leaping at the right time and the cat fell nearly three stories. Beauty jumped up in horror and ran out to aid the cat. Snow was right by her side.
When Beauty awoke she just sat; still tangled in the sheets. A tear fell down the slope of her cheek and died on her lips but she wasn't crying.
She decided to find out what her dream meant.
Black Widow
To see a black widow in your dream, suggests fear or uncertainty regarding a relationship. You may feel confined, trapped, or suffocated in this relationship. You may even feel hostility toward your mate.
Squirrel
To see squirrels running around, signifies that you are involved in a loveless or pointless relationship or an unprofitable business project. Squirrels also refers to the act of hoarding. It could either mean that you need to reserve something or it could indicate that you are retaining too much and need to learn to let go
Red
Red is an indication of raw energy, force, vigor, intense passion, aggression, power, courage and passion. The color red has deep emotional and spiritual connotations.
Red is also the color of danger, shame, sexual impulses and urges. Perhaps you need to stop and think about your actions.
Hotel
To see a hotel in your dream, signifies a new state of mind or a shift in personal identity. You need to move away from your old habits and old way of thinking.
The rest of the dream has been sent in for analysis.
In her dreams, it is different for Beauty. She lives in a tent on the floor in Snow's room. Hiding with him from monsters; living off of fruit. Pomegranate. She's afraid of staying on the floor but he comforts her and it's okay.
At the end of the night he pretends he never has to let her go.
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| Dead Is His Red And Whites. |
[20 Jun 2006|12:30pm] |
A disguise or false outward show; a pretense: a masquerade of humility.
An involved scheme; a charade.
To these girls.. every day is summer. Luckily. I wish they never had to figure out about winter.
We will never need anyone else ever, we are going to do everything together. It doesn't matter if we never find anyone else. We are complete.
Beauty was a cat like angel. A soft blue kitten collar laced tightly around her slender neck. From it hung a plain red heart tag; symbolic of what lay just below. A transparent fluffy tail that sprouted from her lower back; unseen to all but those that truely felt the flicker of her feline stare. Soft purrs and gentle kneading led the lap kitten into their open arms.
None of them were alike; but only one held her heart. Snow was different, and she called him so only in her sleep because he reminded her of slowly drifting cinders. In her sleep she had seen love. It was poisoning, possessing. Devouring. Or it was snow climbing up the stairs to find her.
He was waiting for his muse, his poetry in the shape of a girl. Never before had she met someone who's mind was as intriquite as his. Snow was a lie. One detailed drawn out lie. He was an angel, of sorts. Devious and capable; uncaring and destructive. He could also be sincere and tender and attentive. Snow watched over Beauty, and there she was safe.
Never before had she met someone she could sit next to and listen to; without knowing if a single thing he said was really the truth. Snow was not meant to be on this plane of reality; he belonged in a world of aqua blue. A place where there was nothing so disappointing as what he had come to surround himself with. He knew too much and too little, and was always dissatisfied. Maybe she pitied Snow for being so intellectual without any way to express it; get it out of his system. He was a boy now, a boy and not an angel and he was not safe.
Snow found Beauty and pulled her across the sky with him in waves of milky white with butterfly frost wind. Soft hands sliding over her pale skin as he whispered only lies into her ear as delicately as he could. Beauty had come to accept this, and only loved him more for it. Loved him because he was not real, and knew only how to be fake.
She understood that her love for him was returned, but not reality. Snow would always watch over Beauty, and Beauty would heal him only for brief intervals at a time when fate served to bring them near once more. Heal his mind from the self inflicted wounds. He was mutilation with hands and eyes. She was the gentle kisses that could make it go away; but only for that instant.
So why should beauty shed crystaline kitten tears. Spheres of salty invisibility. The longing she could feel for another entity that she felt belonged where she did? Should she tred and try to come across this place of aqua blue. Should she head in that named direction prior to Snow so he could stumble across her with added confusion. She thought endlessly of ways to make him see her; really see her. How she was there; and how good she could be. A perfect angel, Beauty could be. Maybe she could make him forget something he needed to leave behind; take away wounds left unattended. Maybe it could be her Snow would find the understanding he sought in. Another to identify with when there was no one else.
Snow never saw her, but held her still in a tormenting embrace that would never mean anything more.
"No matter where I am, I am always loving you," she said. He sneered. It was hard for him to care when all he needed was to hate. This boy angel demon left anything that could bring him joy; but Beauty would always be near to watch over and protect with cat like grace. It was eternal.
In her dreams, it's different. Two Beautiful Fears shiny like crystal lace frost. It felt like he had taken her soul. No one could, though. It was just sleeping.
His warm hand leading her away. It was always empty streets and no light; endless gleaming darkness. There was only peace, non-hectic soothing quiet.
Gliding on love spells he said, "I want to talk to you. Just us." How could Beauty refuse? He took her to his room and held her like she was the only thing that mattered. Snow whispered how the ice queens had been a mistake; and Beauty was the only one that belonged. He spoke of different worlds and journeys and spun tales she could hardly imagine while she showered him in the kisses reality couldn't serve to produce.
Only in dreams did they belong to eachother.
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| Note. |
[02 Sep 2005|06:43am] |
| [ |
mood |
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exanimate |
] |
| [ |
music |
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The Cure - Boys Don't Cry |
] |
I don't tip toe around ex-girlfriends anymore.
I already learned that lesson.
<3
"So don't be surprised when you find the note on the fridge."
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| All Love is F l e e t i n g |
[01 Sep 2005|04:54pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
The White Stripes - Fell In Love With A Girl |
] |
Fell in love with a girl
fell in love once and almost completely
she's in love with the world
but sometimes these feelings
can be so m i s l e a d i n g
she turns and says are you alright?
I said I must be fine cause my heart's still beating
come and kiss me by the riverside,
bobby says it's fine he don't consider it c h e a t i n g.
Today was an interesting day.
And here I sit, my phone cord unplugged.
hair all messy, makeup smeared.
Nearly in tears.
I got up late for me, 5:45 and got ready. yaay. I was exhausted.
And I found the perfect place on my bed to sleep three minutes before I had to get up.
And I have conversations with my mom while I'm asleep, because she's my alarm clock.
Because normal alarm clocks don't wake me up.
She'll come in and say "It's time to get up" and I say "No.. give me until 5:45 when you leave."
and she'll come back five minutes later and say "get up!" and I say "DAMNIT WOMAN. I said wake me up when you leave!" and she's like "You did not say that!" and I'm like "uhuh!" and I realize I was dreaming when I said it. and I fall back. and am out in three seconds. and she comes in five minutes later and says "get up" and I'm like "wtf did I just tell you??!" and she's like "Oh yeah. sorry." and then comes in five minutes later when it's time for her to leave and is like "Im leaving. get up." and walks off.. and I fall out of bed and head for the bathroom to brush my teeth and she's like "Oh. glad to see you made it." and I'm like "Grr!"
So yeah.
I walked to school on time. Got muh backpack and purse and water bottle. See the kids at the park. say hello. Jessie's there which is ironic. I used to like him last year but now I hardly give him a glance. Like -shrug- whatever. and now Chanelle wants in his pannttss buut. he's got a girlfriend.
Second Period, Nurse.. sooo many sick kids. Had to make bag after bag of ice. get bandaids. the nurse was gone, all up to me. Girls throwing up etc etc. Gag. Made it through it. Lunch was good. Visit infront of Independence. Talk to Aussie even if he's high. Talk about my straight edge-ness. Beat up Austin for not inviting me to his party just because Zia will be there.
Got a bunch of hugs. like usual. Lots of compliments, like usual..
Hardly talked to Cory. Tear.
Went with Kristyn and Chanelle to Kristyns house where we pierced Chanelle's nipples. Interesting. They made a popping sound? gross. Ate a Pickle.
Got sick.
I don't like feeling ill. But The White Stripes cheer me up. <3
No one would stop calling. Phone call after phone call until I screamed at Shaun on the phone.
I felt mega bad.. [Bringing back Mega]
Then heard more about this Hurricane. I don't know why it's gotten me in such a weird mood.
Helpless. Confused. Upset.
All these people were instructed to go to this civic center and no one was there.. and they've been waiting and everyones dying because they haven't had any food or water in days and babies are dead and stuff.. it's ridiculous. and I can't take things that tragic.
So I started crying.
And stuffed my face in a pillow.
And decided to wait for saturday.
I wish he was here..
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