vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me

im always so vulnerable with you

you told me you only let yourself be touched when you cant feel
when the alcohol
when the drugs
when the substance has mutilated your insides so that when they are inside they do not touch you vulnerable

but you touched me vulnerable
would you not let me kiss your neck because its outside?
because that intimacy is closer than all the men, all the women, that have been inside you
because you would feel the spasm of every one of my lips muscles contracting and convulsing against your skin.
because my kiss on your neck would demand to be felt,
like a knock, like a doorbell wanting to be inside, an echo that you can't ignore.
breaking the blood vessels just on the surface of a cavity holding your air to existence...
would i break your existence?

a bruise for you to feel on the surface
a bruise for you to feel the exposure
a bruise for you to feel what can be lost in memory with every heavy sigh you take in
a bruise reminding you that you took my breath away
that you took my innocence away
that you took my virginity away
that you touched me vulnerable...

you made me stop...
in your taunting saftey word phrases, in your pauses, in your avoided eye contact
i felt your vulnerability most

i confessed once that i love when youre vulnerable

you said youd walk around later hearing "let me let me let me" as i whispered at your throat
begging for you to let me into something more than your mouth, something more than your body
does it haunt you like the doorbell?
does it haunt you like the echo?
do my words stay at your throat like the kiss that never made it there...like an invisible threat or torment to your vulnerability?
do my words strangle you and suffocate your air?
are my words grasping prsion bars from the outside?
trying to touch something locked away...
would my kiss have broken your existence?

would my kiss on the outside awaken something inside you, that if i touched, would hurt you more than the bruise at your neck
because a kiss that hard is somewhere inbetween pleasure and pain
and we both know how both,when felt together, weaken your mind, your body, and soul to be stripped down, naked, VULNERABLE, shards of self not inside or outside
and that feeling of inbetween is more vulnerable than the definite evidence of a hickey left on your outside, or the definite reaction of your body to the sensations when fingers are inside
because the phsycial cannot touch your soul
because no matter how many ******* or hickeys penetrate your body,inside and out,they cannot touch your existence

i wanted to touch your existence

i didn't want to make love
i didn't want to have ***
i didn't want to have pleasure or pain
and thats why i also confessed that when you touched me vulnerable i felt nothing
because i was waiting

waiting like the doorbell that you never came to the door to answer
waiting like the knock that you never came to the door to answer
waiting like the echo i whispered that screamed for you to "let me" in
waiting to feel your existence

to exist with you inbetween;inside out outside in

i told you once before that you felt like a soul mate to me
and you touched me vulnerable
you touched me vulnerable
you touched me vulnerable
but you did not feel me

so now when i slip my fingers inside myself i feel to see if my innocence is still there
i feel to see if my virginity is still there
and this bruise that you left on my throat i press my fingers against to feel the throb of pain so i can feel if my vulnerability is still there
and they are...
they are because i kept those when i left my existence on a tongue thats tasted many souls but never swallowed
on the fingers of hands that touched many bodies but only felt the wet that washes away with the soap...clean of something permanent
a temporary high
would you let me touch you without being high? no.

you didnt care to be my first, said it was a weapon, that the only thing you wanted was for me not to regret
i dont regret. i dont regret at all.
but i hope my existence that i left to you is a weapon that you can't fight off with the drugs or the alcohol
i hope my existence that i left to you stained your hands and is holding onto your teeth like those prison bars
so that when we ****
**** because ******* has no love and is a pitiful attempt to be ***
when we **** again
i hope that if not my existence, you at least feel my presence
my presence that will be your echo, your knock, your doorbell for the ignored and dismissed love i feel in the depths of my soul for you...

the love that you will never desire to feel more than my body (outside)
that i, more than your body, desire to feel your love-not for me or for anybody else but the love you feel for yourself (inside)
and we will never be what's inbetween

we will never be more than you touching me vulnerable but not feeling my vulnerability

vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me
vulnerable you touched me...

because sleeping with you is more intimate than ***...

to be a subconscious kiss- stained with your morning breath

to be a dreamed embrace-tangled in me more than the sheets

to be a secret you whisper-my name on your tongue in your vulnerable forgotten night confessions

...I no longer have dreams of your love for in sleep they are my reality

I don't like to celebrate my birthday
I don't celebrate my birthday.
What is there to celebrate?

My existence is stained in accident and I don't need to be given purpose in rubber balloons, and paper streamers, and cheap wax candles.

My birthday feels like a date that's begging and pleading for someone to acknowledge that I'm alive, and I don't want to have to pretend to be.

I don't want to be thankful for stupid gifts that are brought on by obligation and I don't want to smile when I hear "happy birthday" come off your lips. I'm not happy.

My birth is just a day. A mistaken date, an accidental date, a victimized date that had to bear my name being attached to it like I'm of some significance to the calendar. Like I'm of some significance to time.

Time that will also be one more year closer to death which is just as unbearable because it's confirmation of my accidental, mistaken, existence. It's the stamp that says "she shouldn't have been breathing in the first place". Don't date my tombstone.

Its uncomfortable for me to celebrate my birthday.

I'm not trying to be depressing, or pitiful, or too "deep" about things BUT this is just a fact. A statement. An acceptance in my life. A way things are kind of feeling. Permanent.

So don't tell me I'm thinking about it all wrong and to be more positive. That people love me and are happy I'm alive and want me to know that. That's a bunch of *******. If you loved my existence you wouldn't need to express that to me in chocolate icing, and blow horns, and confetti bits. I'm not pitiful. Birthdays are just a pitiful excuse for you to make my existence more about living for you. A debt for your "kindness" at throwing me a party. A debt for your "thoughtfulness" because of that expensive gift you bought with me in mind. A debt for your "love".

That's what  I mean when I say simply, " I don't want to be 19".

abaonded by the insinciere
genuine in being ingenuine
my tears
tainted pain that hurts as much as the curling rods hot touch
visible scars serve as inadquted interpretations of the slef inflicted torture
but is it self inflicted?
self inflicted if you were the one that inflicted so much pain in the first place
hours and hours of agony
oh how one longs for the hot rod to take her away from such agony
(get used to being burned, when the devil has his turn)

don't touch me!
ur affection holds none
only using me to get what others can not give to you
                                 wont give you
i want to scream at the affect of your touch
just like the curling rod
just like the knife
just like the razor,
pills,
rope,
needles,
that take my life
you cut into me worse then them all
but i let you
because hurting is 10times better than not hurting at all.

-The Effects of Sarrow

I am hallow and your cryptic messages echo echo echo in the cavern depths of my mind. and I erase myself into a hallow dark nothingness because your voice reckishays so beautifully into my abyss. to let your essence fade within me until i can feel your silence, is a sound I cannot regurgitate. I hide in you more than i do myself and the feeling of vulnerability entraps my soul inbetween-and i taste it on my exhale and you sense it on your inhale but you will always breath it out and ill always breathe it back in. the dictionary in my head is composed of emotions and my fragmented thoughts will appear on my tongue in words that know well solitude. so don't ask me to compile a sentence when nonsense is such a poetic language. and maybe you're shocked by your own electricity but i know that when my socket lips meet your outlet I don't need my eyes open for you to feel my stare. I started in a void, rap music drains me into being comfortably numb like the security of a scratched cd that will repeatedly mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble nonsense until you can handle the silence again. Sedation. but silence does not exist-there will only ever be nothingness.

and memory is a misconception. and my memory is paranoid fading fading fading fading deceptions that i mutilate into some kind of black hole limbo of existence. I forget memory does not exist. not even the best moments are worth remembering into ghosts, shadows, silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes. I wont remember but i wont forget...an inbetween. I've never felt so lonely as you keep a memory but forget me within it. my extinction to you is inevitable. Forget me to death. I only know the sensation of breaking, breaking, breaking. but you say my name in halves like it was meant to be broken. like the last syllables of my names are the sound of my last breath. a secret spilt in the killing, your last words to me were my first name. that was the most purpose ever put to my accidental label that my parents branded me with because mistake, seems more like a nickname than a first. first times aren't anything more than any other time. Innocence costs more than its worth, and my worth to you and you and you and you over and over and over again was never a matter of giving or taking because purity and promiscuity are just different forms of the same breaking, breaking, breaking. you **** me like a mortician dissects a ****** victim. and i ******* like a corpse in a dirt smothered grave, ***** to the bone. love has everything to do with it because loving me is the promise of i will die for you. will, not would. and i love you like the ceaseless immortality of time measuring my bodies end in mortality. so all jokes aside, id rather say ill ******* to death than ill love you because it more crude, offensive, and morbid to ever suggest my love for you could end at wood. intensity, burdens, accidents, rejection, characters, you don't know me past an expiration date. You don't know me and my caffeinated brain at 3:22am 156 days past last, high on an artificial happiness overdose. To never sleep as a self inflicted insomniac. Intoxication, addiction, I understand survival. I never write anything short. I never write anything worth saying. Irony is the core of infinity and infinity is temporary and my muse is the epitome of all. And in the end, you are every question and i am a single factual answer.

SUNDAY
written: July 13, 09 sunday (of course)

simplicity just isnt me
intricate intamacy
leaves me breatheless
helpless

don't leave me here naked
stripped of all i am
don't leave me here now to die in my shame
and give into my concioius screaming my name
this is where you take away the pain
you inflict on me
help me breathe
please

and i broke
though i swore i wouldn't
and i only blame myself
and they tell me i shouldn't
i should hate you
for only wanting this from me
but i couldn't stand too make you unhappy

your miserable
and i pity your insanity
and i'm terrible
for trying to make you happy
at least that's what they think

i'm torn
and i don't want to do this anymore
but i can't stand to let you go cuz it'd hurt you,hurt me more then you know

you help me breathe
the only thing keeping me sane while pushing me over the edge of insanity
the pain oh the pain

let me pull up my pants
i can't unless you tell me your satisfied with me
finally happy
ive given up fighting agaist your hands
someday they'll understand why i can't live without them

your invisible touch
suduction that inspires my ****** lust
for you
this is all i have to do
to prove to you i'm true  

pocessed by you
obsessed with you
undress for you
because you asked me too

pocessed by you
obsessed with you
undress for you
because you need me too

it's the least i can do
for someone so upset
for someone who needs me
i can't hold regret
for you, i'll never forget
though remembering makes me sick
a lifetime of this uncurable illness
a sacrafice i took to try to save you from your disease
and i'd willing die naked to save you from your suffering

SILENCE THA VOICES

written: july 8th,09 wendsday

breaking all tha glass
forgetting all tha terror
everything feels better when i can't remember
you

forgetting the pain is impossible
the more i try
the more i **** my soul

the more i **** myself
it's to late for help

these 4 white walls
reflect my insanity
torture my mind by locking me behind with these voices
that whisper me lies
and i cry
because i know their right

then these walls turn to glass
and everyone can see me destroyed
no more secrets to protect myself from the noise
and you look into my eyes
and i scream with the voices that's mine

no where to hide
i can't take the exposure
i can never have closeur
this has to be over

silence tha voices

silence tha voices

silence tha noises

i love you

breaking all tha glass
forgetting all tha terror
everything feels better when i can't remember
you

All Of ME
written: july 8th, 09 Wednesday

broken desire,
unbearable pain,
haunting passion,
white room dreams,
all equal secret insanity.
all equal me.

your skin
your lips
your eyes
your tears
temptations that possess me

i still dream of you
and it pushes me over tha edge
as i scream in slience
and i hear you voice in my head
suductive and kindless

taunting me
haunting me

just illision
i'm delusional

i want you so badly
you make me forget
the regret
and the incurable infections of my heart

you can call me selfish
i am
but your a insure desperate man

paranoid thoughts,
deprived imagination,
isolated pride
and sweet desperation

you and me and our bodies
you and me and our bodies

entwined
as i breathe in your name
and my lungs hurt with tha pain

something i can never have
i tasted the sweetness and i want it bad

your magical sin
giving in.....to impurities  

now you have all of me

isn't jealousy a captivating feeling?!!

oh the (***) of it...
it's enticing and romantic and kisses you in overwhelming obsession and vulnerable passionate seduction everywhere! every crevice of your mind is infatuated with the perfumed desire of desire! Naked, stripped, raw, tempting want! That wicked taunting sensation at the edges of your secret never to be told  

oh the (love) in it...
breaks your heart into a million little pieces shattered throughout your body as you feel the ticklish pinch of pain as your phantom heart won't forget how to beat. although, you wish it would becasue the silence in between each hiccuped spasm suggest an undying love. for everyone in jealousy is in love with it. forever pulsing through your veins how the
love for it stains...

oh the (hate) of it
to ******, destroy, and diminish the tormenting throbs of anger, frustration, and unsatisfied possession of your soul. Don't you feel the same corruption and
misery so so miserable misery that defines you? DESPISE! LOATHE! To banish, annihilate, obliterate, destroy it!  

oh the (drug) of it...
the caressing addiction of such a powerful emotion. how much more could you feel? Pushing the limits of emotion you indulge in sweet agony.

oh the (death) of it
the last and first breath between love and hate paralyzed between inhale and exhale. oh the death of it is the death of myself for it's all i feel now

oh! the jealousy i'm in!?
oh (haha) how jealous you must be...

as my body drowned in the caressing taste of the sea anchored by my love for you
i didn't want to breathe
suspended inbetween being above or below
i let my life go

i'm never gonna have that.
i'm going to have drunken kisses, private hand holding, secret, captive, solitary, messy, *****, abused love.

i'll never be the one worth loving out of chains and grim and empty streets. i'll be the one worth leaving. worth letting go. worth forgetting about.

because i'll only use your love to punish myself. to torture me in sweet painful affliction and no one wants to be my addiction. intoxicated by my love feels like a nightmare, alcohol poisoning, acid, a disguised medication... and i'll force you to love me like a rufie before the ****. you'll feel the threat of my intensity and conceal me in your darkness.

Hurt me. a *****, disgusting, morbid, *****. you can brand me in your cigarette ashes. tobacco flavored saliva can stain the space between my legs like a wet match trying to burn. you can mark me in your bad habits and dig your chemical colored fingerprints into my flesh and wound me to scratch away the lust you feel. at least my flesh will be touching yours under your ****** finger nails. you can give me your alcohol scented breath and breathe into me whatever you were trying to drink away. I'll keep it in between my stale lung cavities. You can touch me in the dark and neglect me in the day. Think of me when you take out the trash, flush the toilet, put your ***** *** soiled ******* in the wash...a temporary disgusting, filthy, nuisance that you can always dispose of.

i'm fine with that

because i'm not the kind someone wants to hold hands with in public. the kind to laugh with and admire the sparkle of magic in the depth of their eyes. the kind that someone could love without destruction, or thinking of leeches, heads in ovens, dim light, dark alleys, or rancid, rotting, smells that linger to stench the whole atmosphere.

i'm a morbid, dark, twisted, ****** up, ***** and when you say you love me...

i know you mean you love me like unreadable, scratched, handwriting fading into the cracks of a wood grain table.

i feel your absence like a cancer multiplying and multiplying within me
and i feel sadness sicking my whole anatomy so i physically hurt from the mental trauma of missing you

not even your love can cure me from this sickness
tell me you love me, tell me you miss me, it doesn't matter
as every day more i die physically from the physical absence of you in my life

so here i am hospitalized
every beep of the heart monitor,
ever drip of the IV fluid,
every throb of the blood pressure pump,
every hair follicle ripped from my skin with the band aid,
every second reminding me that im living and dying at the same time without you

and i'm aware of every atom splitting inside me
as the doctors carefully preform the surgery on each one to separate the bond of you and me

i have an attraction to the grim these days
the dirt, the mess, the rancid, rotting, stench of things gone bad
i like when i sweat and the makeup smears under my tired eyes
i like when i eat and the crumbs of something devoured remain in my teeth
i like when i bite my nails and the chip in the polish makes my breath smell like the chemicals poison
i like being gross, *****, rancid, rotting, soiled in my own filth, decaying...
i wont brush my teeth
i wont change my underwear
i wont put a bandied on the scratch on my thigh
because i'm always looking for a release from my mind
and what you see is what you get

I never knew what loneliness was until I your cure for it
you detached me from identity
you dismissed me from a capaticy to feel and ignored that I ached for you
ached to love you with my faceless face
ached to love you with my body that you made mechanical
ached to love you with my soul that you denied, refused, dismissed, me of having
your intentions blurred me into nothing and you say that that was not your intent
but why do you take me like you mean to write me into poetry but then erase my essence off your pages
you are a black hole diminishing me into an abyss of your neglect, and rejection so I am ceaselessly falling into your darkness and not your love

to love you with all my exsistencne nonexsistently
I alway love with all my exsistence nonexsistently

I am alone in my accidental purpose and reasons and secrets and confessions and everything unspoken
i want to be silence to you
the silence that echos with words and feelings that exsist but remain nonexsistent
and i ache to love you with my voiceless voice but whats the use in emphasiszing my insanity by speaking aloud to myself?
so ill stay consumed in thinking to myself thoughts meant for you deprived of meaning by you

I've been alone in love every time I've loved
and alone I love more
but i've never felt such utter loneliness before as you keep a memeory but forget me within it
fade me into insignificance so my name is a word and not a meaning, not a nickname for my essence but remembered as just a presence
a witness to you breathing-dissolving myself into your inhale and vanishing as you expel me with your exhale

i look into your eyes like i look into a mirror
trying to see myself inside but being nothing more than a surface reflection

i never understood lonliness until i felt yours
the disconnect as our eyes connected
the detachement as our hands attached
the distance as our lips met

never have I felt so far when being so close
never have I craved so much an intamacy that will never be intimate
never have I felt love in being so unloved

before i was alone but did not feel the pain of solitude
before i was in solitdue but did not feel the hurt of being alone
now i'm in a lonely love for you
and i'm addicted to the nothingness you make me
but i wish you loved me into something
i wish you loved me

parted lips
i want to entwine myself between them
to breathe with you
to taste your life by swallowing your air

wet lips
i want to caresses your smile
feel the corners of your mouth turn up at my touch
to feel your muscles contract, spasm in laughter with the tickle of my mouth on yours

puckered lips
i want to touch every crack on your chapped lips
to feel every defined line punished by your bite
to be your chapstick for that second tracing the fragile outline of your perfect desperate curves

kiss

INCURABLE LOVE

And i thought my love for
you was contagious...

that the desire that sickened my veins
would infect your bloodstream to puncture your heart...

that the virus that suffocates my lungs-punctured by intoxicated oxygen-
would absorb into every particle that you swollow
into your cavities
holding captive my breath to kiss your lungs
and poison your bones in an elixir of
infectious passion,
intense admiration,
and--.

i am sick
as every cell craves you and aches for your love
so that love is a disease consuming my essence in decay, and rot, and soil
as only the return of such an overwhelming emotion
-oh my physical weakness-
could give cure...

CURE ME!

to suffer is to die in this aliment for i am weak and vulnerable to this epidemic!
please touch me and ease my breaking bones by tracing every wrinkle and line on my skin!
Please kiss me and ease my fractured lips by filling the cracked muscle with your wet tongue to remind me of a taste better than the medicine staining my throat!
Please look at me so as my pupils may dialate in my love for you beneath the sickened lids that blink back acid tears!

CURE ME!
CURE ME!

And in turn i will spread incurable love

and every time you say i love you
my soul aches vulnerable and whispers its secret
tickling my veins with staccato laughter
pulsating my heart with taunting palpitations
...too
and when i hear the slurr of La leave your cracked lips and the sensuous caress of the Vvvv against your tongue as your soprano voice decrescendos into a forgotten essence of beautiful sound, I breathe to hold my breath to let your music resonate in the quite rhythm of your inhale, exhale
...too
and
every manically scratched line in the etch-a-sketch patterns of my hand
every strand of tousled hair
every flutter of my feather duster eyelashes
every scribbled freckle upon every cell of skin
every taste bud adorning my tongue
every part of my being...too
i love you

desperate for your love and affection
i teetered on the boat of attention
blinded by my plank of perfection
i jumped into the sea hoping you would save me

SEVERITY
sometimes the severity of my emotions is enough

LOVE LETTERS
i don't write love letters
i've never written a love letter
and i will never write a love letter

April 16, 2014 1:15am
desperation is a beautiful emotion because it's need escalated to its highest capacity. and i desperately need you.

march 1,2014 11:09pm-11:14pm
I keep a lyric calendar on my wall composed of newsprint and sharpie to keep from writing the sentences on my body. I had the urge to sit within a locked room naked and start at my toes scribbling nonsense and the words on the tip of my tongue and in the depths of my mind until I ran out of skin. My desire to do this was overwhelming and I found great content and frustration in replaying this fantasy in my head over and over and over and over and over and over and over again...In my insanity I like to write on my skin. manic scribbles and crossed out phrases and words. And i wish they were permanent. That the ink of the sharpie really was permanent. But why wont I get a tattoo if I so carve to carve the words into scars across my skin?

march 1,2014 11:09pm
im writing more than im' speaking so i can do less thinking

march 1, 2014 10:36pm
I just want to die tonight. There's nothing that can distract me from my ceaseless thoughts and this feeling of engrossing sadness demanding my undivided attention to be felt.

march 1, 2014 8:48-9:02
with my feelings about my 19th birthday and birthdays in general why does it hurt so badly that she didn't follow through, that she attempted to care by setting up a banner but failed to be there beneath it when i came home when I knew that that's what would happen. When i'm use to these kind of attempts. Actually its the only thing I've ever known or been given are failed attempts. But I didn't expect anything from her at all. I didn't want anything from her at all except time. My whispered thoughts to myself were "i only want her time". Maybe its because of how much she already makes me into nothing so to half *** attempt to do something for me on my birthday, the day of my existence, is just an ironic but appropriate thing for her to do. She wouldn't think this much into it. She cared but just doesn't care enough and she dosn't have to think about it at all past the action. Dosn't have a reason to think of the effect. Dosn't have to think or know at all the effect. Its just an action to her and my reaction is my own. It was her obligation to do something and she tried. Oh I shouldn't say tried cause that implys that she meant to do more. No no no that's it. Just a banner. A banner to haunt me in my hallways of the time she dosn't have for my life on the day to celebrate the time I've been alive. Maybe its only right then that It makes me feel dead. But its just a banner. Without any emotions or feelings involved it's just a birthday banner and that's it.
(mymuse)

march 1, 2014 8:46pm
i know other people have felt as i feel. I know hat I will end this emotion. but the only emotion i want to feel are hers and that's whats killing me because I've erased myself to feel her nothingness. she feels nothing for me.
(mymuse)

march 1, 2014 8:45pm
i only write sad poetry

---------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------------------
i never thought my love for you could expire even if our relationship did
but lately it feels the other way around
-may 30, 2013 4:45pm
(with you in mind)

don't be so in love with tragedy
-may 30, 2013 4:46pm

i like the little tattoos on your skin
even if theyre visible theyre like whispers of some secret
-June 19th, 2013 9:03pm

in so much pain
so lonely
im so so sad
-June 20th, 2013 10:20pm

i almost noticed the fragmented shatters of your mind
...almost
just, almost...
(what you do to me)

I need someone to live for and right now You’re not enough.
I don’t know if You’ll ever be enough anymore.
I had the thought a while back that I loved You less and less these days.
That scared me but I thought I was strong enough to live on my own.
I want to live on my own
But not without You
It’s obvious that I’m dying without You
But you?
Are you worth living for?
No…no…not at all
It’s my choice only me to blame
But I love You.
Why? You don’t deserve my love.
But I love You all the same
-with you in mind

The mascara deadened her eyes into ceaseless black holes of sorrow that held the beauty of a stained promise of promiscuity. And I thought her broken like her bitten nails splintered in chipped nail polish. Broken like the skin over her chapped lips that the red lipstick exposed like blood; wet and dripping in a murderous kiss by her tobacco flavored saliva. Broken like the scars that perfumed her flesh with the scent of cheap alcohol as the shards of glass intoxicate her veins with drunken slices and cuts. Broken in her breath as breathing became an addiction to remind her that the dead feeling inside is so much like the grave she craves to live in. Broken! Broken like my desire to breathe life into a rotting corpse.

i will not remember, but i will not forget. an in between.

for memory does not, and will never, exist in immortal time measuring mortality. that is why it haunts,

memory haunts the mind and rests its grave in the depths of your soul
killing one slowly with invisible, fragments and fading pieces of life that once were your only existence.
attached to invisible, fragments and fading pieces of life that were once your whole existence.

i hate fading in and out of existence.
being manipulated by my mind to hold onto that moment for one more second, one more hour, one more day
so that every time i recall it, it changes into a fragment of fantasy,
fading into imagination,
at the same time that memory will define and confuse my now.
a present moment stolen by the stale air of the past and i let myself rot in it as if it were holy water.
the past and future are oblivion, the in between is eternity.

I only trust my emotions and feelings.
paranoid of my mind to warp a memory into what it is not-a thought.
Memory is a moment that's trying to be preserved by the mind when it was experienced by the soul.

no memory, even the best, is ever worth remembering

Burning Sensations
dose me in lighter fluid
and let my flesh be eaten away by the tormenting throbs of burns
burning
the sensation of disintegrating
the senestation of every atom being torched
let me live amoung my ashes
let me be consumed in heat

oh let me kiss you
spoiled me sincerely in your perfectness let me be
inbetween your inhale and exhale
to taste that sweetly on my tongue
and ever on for you i love

LOVE YOU TOO
and every time you say i love you too
my soul shatters into a million pieces of vulnerablity
exposing the throbbing palpatations of my heart

i fell asleep for a second
but only so i could dream of you

i wish i could love you the way i want to
-in reality-
but so long as i am loving you
then let me dream
     let me sleep

i'll only ever have you as a dream
so tuck me in and sleep beside me
because thats when the two touch for a just a moment of a second
in between your morning breathe
in between your sheets
in between your goodnight kiss that never touched my lips...just a brush across my cheek
when you sleep and dream next to me
thats when you, my dream, are so vivid it feels real
but when i wake to find if it true
i long to close my eyes again, again beside you

id only call you a nightmare if dream were ever so accurate to how you wake me so
more than morning coffee
more than alarm clocks
more than turning on the bedroom light!!!
awakened but alseep
but oh, how turning on the night light takes me so...
to lay next to you
to entwine my fingers in your hair
to touch your skin and embrace you- tangled up in me more then the blankets
to hold you so perfectly when your so beautiful lying there
   you and me asleep
   you and me asleep

and maybe you dream of me...
maybe behind your closed eyes you sleep the same secrets
all i know is this is honestly the best part of my life
and to have you forever i hope means that i dream this dream every night

held within and tragic strain
dosed and left for comfort more ,
the tears of desperate, fragile, rain
left weeping corpses in the morgue.

distraught by what the muse kept,
but further more for one to keep,
within the death grips weeping, wept
the hands of time of timeless sleep

MOVED TO EXPRESS
by:Rachel Giudici
1/16/12

im looking for something that i can't find
dealing with something that i can't hide
and i wish sometimes that it was enough to just cry
that that was enough to take my pain inside
i realize
i realize that you don't deserve me
but as punishment i deserve you
punishment? that's what you do to me
but is that your fault if its not for fault
i wish i could uncomplicate the mess
to sit a top your perfectness
but by honesty i must confess
that you will never be my best

when the very essence of your soul decays
and wounded left you cry,for what is lost
because they were perfection once
and when perfection dies, its only rots

She was in love with a soldier. His name was Peter Calveen and young was she when she fell for him. He was beautiful and strong with curly brown hair and enchanting blue eyes that sparkled behind long black eyelashes. But it was not his beauty or his glory that had enticed her to love him for she was in love with his defiance. She was captivated by his valiant and cavalier air and seduced by his command and control. She craved for his confidence and slightly arrogant manner; to taste the taste of vanity and to touch the beauty of pride.
She peered out the window to see the fields covered in leaves of auburn and gold. Delicate drops of dew shimmered upon the leaves in the morning sun like tears. She quickly dressed and quietly stepped outside into the icy air. She walked down the avenue and slipped between the trees to a small bench that looked upon a pond. She did not sit but instead crouched by the frozen ice and touched its fragile surface. No scratches or marks had yet broken the cold mirror and she looked into it at her reflection. Her cheeks and nose were a gentle shade of peach caressing her porcelain skin. Her slightly parted lips kissed the mist in a beautiful passive curve as a small dimple on her left cheek pinched the slanted line of her mouth. Even her breathing took on a musical quality as she panted misty ringlets into the air. Her hair fell in elegant golden curls neatly down the crevice of her back. Her eyes sparkled in a flawless shade of hazel as tints of green tickled the edge of her pupil. She looked upon the ice past her reflection to just admire the perfection of each ice crystal.
She thought of Peter’s eyes. They were hard and cold, yet the most enticing blue like the angry sea in the early morning trying to destroy the sand in beautiful foam punches full of tortured beauty. She thought of his body broken in scars, each one seeming like a delicate stitch holding him together. She thought of his lips flavored with sin and curse but still capable of seducing even the purest of angels. Her pulse tickled her veins like laugher as she thought of his heart tired and worn but still throbbing a glorious battle of youth and honor.
She looked again at her face and then into the ice itself. Then, closing her eyes, she raised her hand over her head and drove her fist into the cold stone. Her slender delicate fingers crippled, her knuckles becoming numb and swollen, as her fingernails cracked and shattered. She rose, smiling, and walked away leaving behind her a small crack in the ice.
Clutching her bruising hand as shattered droplets of icicles fell from her eyes to stain her skin in permanent misery, she received word that Peter Calveen had died in combat. A bullet to his heart.






Said the mail boy, “I’d never seen such a beautiful girl before. One becomes so captivated by the tint of ice blue around the edges of her eyes. Winter is here.”

Have you ever felt so lonely that it feels like you're vanishing into nothing
and you check your heart to make sure its beating,
your pulse to make sure its vibrating with your being,
and your breathe to make sure you haven't forgotten such a numb sensation as the air against your lips?

Have you ever felt so lonely that it feels like your existence is fading into the cracked spaces of your paint etched walls?

And have you ever felt so lonely that the epitome of your soul echos hollow within the caverns of your abandoned mind so that just the ticklish caress of your whispered thoughts against it's decaying bone skull makes you feel loved?

Have you ever been so desperate, deprived, or sorrowful as the forgotten memory you almost remembered as you almost almost just close to almost recalled?

I feel that lonely in this secret. I feel that lonely because alone I am in love with you
-rachel giudici may 29,2013 10:52pm

your essence rot beneath my skin
your presence sought a kiss within
but shattered by your bite, only sin
of what you've done to me

your perfection fragily caressed my mind
in taunted gasps i left behind
my soul to you forever bind
unlock my innocence again

but further more you only stole
left me manipulated to endure
the pain and broken shards of self
i loved you between your heaven my hell

Your My Dorian Gray

If the only thing I can have of you that’s 100% my own
Let it be your misery
I’ll die for it at his point
-with you in mind

i now live life for one purpose since all else has been lost.
you don't know how much i torture myself in my never ending thoughts.

i want it all to end...the edge of insanity.
but in the last breathe i realize the sacrafice would be....
watching you die and knowing,it's all because of me.

so i'll breathe
breathe every painful breath and live through every abusive
heart beat
just so you can live your life without the misery and defeat

and in the end..
when i die..
from this shattered soul
i promise i will be your tortured angel

SONG:
what would you say if i told you i wanted to end my life
would you cry
what would you say if i told you that i hurt everyday
and i can't take the pain

would you lie and tell me everything will be fine
hold me close hold me tight
or would you scream and tell me to get away
cause your, your so ashamed and how could i throw it away
or would you understand and take my hand and forgive me for leaving you
oh tell me what would you do



POEM:

what would you say if i told you i wanted to end my life?
would you cry?
what would you say if i told you that i hurt everday
and i can't take the pain?
would you lie and tell me everthing will be fine?

what would you say if i told you goodbye?
what would you say when you got the call saying i committed suicide?
would you say you love me? or that you loved me?

what have i done
done to deserve this
i was never the one
that you would ever miss

oh mother mother mother
can i call you that
can you tell me why you left me and don't want me back
oh

abdonment hurts
but you wouldn't know
you left me here all alone
what nightmare is this when you don't love your own kid
but still i live,
ur accident

to be once a broken angel
imprisoned in the mere shattered fragments of my mind
where white rooms and ****** where the very essence of me
where life was death and nothing more
and i fell in love with it
and i never felt such pain such dark rigid pain and it hurt
and i was incapable of crying
why couldn't i be in misery?
i just wanted to be in misery...
i wanted to forget
but now i see i need to remember
im still sick