select selections from my moleskine - 20 March 2012

Hold me down under the tepid water in the tub.  No matter how much I struggle, no matter how much I kick - don’t let go.  It’s only my body’s instinct of self-preservation kicking in.  My mind has been dead for months.

Flat, matte white on the walls, papers and leaves scattered across dirty floors, windows haphazardly boarded up.

They tried to fix her up, but they soon got tired of all the labor and expense.

Take a closer look at the papers - before she abandoned, she ripped all the pages out of her books, threw her mantras in the air to be whistled away by the wind.  Oh, what fitting confetti.

2 months ago  /  0 notes

select selections from my moleskine - 5 March 2012

I used to write pretty broken things when I was sad.

I am a bruised apple.  Cut off the dark bits you don’t want. Avoid them.

Bite into me.  The crunch sounds too much like a snap - something is breaking.

It’s no fun breaking alone.

2 months ago  /  0 notes

select selections from my moleskine - 28 February 2012

I’m so in love with sadness.

I feel the hairline fractures. Sometimes, things are just too beautiful.  They hurt.

There are some things a person should keep close to her soul.  Itch the scabs idly, the flesh crawling like some sick lucid hallucination.

Something dark is chewing its way through my heart, dragging its teeth against the muscle.

An uncomfortable pull.

Drag on me, catch me.

Don’t think you will.

I make a living being fucking smoke.  Translucent - you can’t quite see through me, but you think you can read every page in one glance.

Try to catch me. I dare you.

I’d slip through your hands, your teeth, quicker than you could bite down.

2 months ago  /  0 notes

select selections from my moleskine - 12 February 2012

Slowly, I am siphoning all the disappointment away.

I want to remember what it feels like to ache throughout my bones - that full love and passion that spreads like a slow fire.

I was a vulnerable little girl, dolled up in frills, a red lace babydoll.

What do you want from me?

The hunger in your eyes was enough to eat me alive for months.

Pick up the clothing gingerly, like shards of glass.  The damage done was far worse than first thought - there was a lot more to pick up than expected.

Can’t wear the dress. I hold the red lace in my hands, before flinging it into the back of the closet.

I tried to reclaim it - however, your eyes drilled holes into me.

Don’t want to feel on fire anymore.  Pour some water on me, or stub me out.

Can’t take the slow burning down and flickering, this needs to end.

2 months ago  /  0 notes

select selections from my moleskine - 8 February 2012

- clench your left fist. Tighter. Tighter.  Relax your fist.  Feel the difference?

- the red on the insides of my eyelids shimmers.  Everything feels coated in liquid red gold.  But I shine more like a green bottle.  Throw me against a wall and break me.  I’m filled with enough thoughts, so full to the brim.  Drain me dry.  Everyone’s been doing that for years.  I want so badly to be nothingness.

2 months ago  /  0 notes

Stealing this good form from ktburrr

+ spending nye with schmemily
+ reconnecting with family I haven’t seen in years
+ quit smoking for 6 days

- worst break ever. My uncle passed away suddenly.
- I haven’t gotten all my grades or my rank.
- I don’t want to go back to Albany.

5 months ago  /  1 note