Thursday, November 18, 2010

sounds like ana.

Her voice. Or the devils. Whoever is the mastermind.

I changed around some of the lyrics, so its fitting in my situation,probably others too.

[ana:] hey love,it's me again. The one you used to call your friend. I know you havent forgot me? Though you gained alittle,and some time has passed.

[you:] Oh yeah how could I forget? You've become a piece inside, cant shake off, though i resent. you always bring me sin,and agony. Just walk away,and let me be.

[ana:] Here you go with that again. You act like we're not cool or something. Let's go run a few laps or something. sit ups or plan a fast or something.

No, not again. I'm not trusting you
nothing but a drug in you
Thanks be to God I obeyed the teaching I was entrusted to
Cause when you pass by you just want me slip fast and backslide
weak,fatigue, strung out on reality
Have me feeling sick like I'm coming down off a crack high
dont know a thing, sense of anything-lost my own face, who am I?

Really? that's a flat lie
You act like I'm the bad guy
i know you better than anyone
You know when me and you get together, you open up- intimate- we have a GRAND time!
Let's take it back. All the way to age 12,
sitting in the bathtub looking down, at what disgusted you, no one was around.
they couldn't see it would soon define,
the sickness,statistics, doctors in white coats and clipboards analyze
Last thing on your mind back in the day was trying to live saved,
it was exercise. a plan. a way. time to change.
Not good enough for anyone or anything, what hope filled your eyes,only lies
hell, thought of sex or marriage- you were terrified.
all because the excess on your stomach
and the numbers on the scale, they'll try to take you away from me
soon be forced to turn backwards,blind. but we can make it through,alright. other ways to weigh,to peak.
follow me,follow my lead
let me help you take the pain away
fix the flaw,
cure the rage
Remember 5 days straight without a single meal?walking through Manhattan, high heels-almost skeletal?
darling that was innocent fun come on... there is no harm.

NOW don't start
See I live by the Spirit so I don't gratify
All those old sinful,sick desires that never satisfy

im a stranger to my own reflection, a liar. an addict.
i refuse to be a junkie to you, anything to get a fix
desperate, degrade myself and morals,
manipulate my spirit,innocence and ethics
scribble, rewrite over every time i promised i wouldnt cross a line

theres nothing attractive about being bones,
whats the rush?
soon enough death will already naturally come
no need to quicken the process
while we're still alive
stay strong,stay right.
ana loves me? thats a lie.

No, come on, KILL THAT!
Look me in my face and tell me I'm a lie
Youre not aching to expose some ribs, shrink your arms, protrude your spine?
concave your stomach strong, as chest bones intensify.. soon you'll feel perfect in that dress, as you melt away your thighs.
we were having fun until you found god,prayed the triggers and symptoms away,
desperately bled every hour to be alright,
you forgot about the one who loves you most,and holds you tight?

wait hold on, first of all LOWER YOUR VOICE AND LIES! If in hold, you mean suffocate- drain- strangle or choke? That yeah, youre right.
Chained and bound in your embrace, months seemed like centuries back in 09
isolated myself from the world and precious people i hold close
a stranger to my fiance,brother, own mother,and god himself?
sitting in my room with you,allday and allnight
too much space in my existence, too much of me you occupy

turns a good girl,lost. - smoker, user. shaking hands,always freezing in the summer
once cautious about every action,now without a care
take a drug to fulfill THE drug
anything to lose alittle here or there

I'll mess around and lose my life trying to walk in you
end up half dead, lethargic on a bed
still pretty with eyeliner on my eyes,yeah, but what about my feeding tube?
I'm standing in this world and i have the people who love me more,
What I look like trying ta gratify this disease in me? god,beyond all. the only thing I will adore.

So Now I'm a disease? PLEASE.. I have your back. your best intention at hand.
Im not saying drop 20 pounds in a single week, we can do it nice and slow- no one will suspect.
All I'm saying is when it's you and me, a cure beyond any stupid church,
the ugliness you feel starts to go, you should expect.
We dont have to get ourselves locked up in-patient first month or so..
Maybe just a lil...

What? A lil this, a lil that, a lil skip this meal here, turns into a full foodless week that's like a lil crack, see you dont have to lie to me
I know the monster you really are, you see?
full blown binge tonight releases the new frantic bulimic in me
And that's in no way honoring the God who's ruling sovereignly

[ana:] baby, you know you miss the old days, feeling smaller, feeling taller, dizziness wont last the whole way,trust me, you know how it works. blow away,forever feather. thats what matters, its worth it- trust me, lets get together. almost pass out at first, pins and needles in your hands and legs,arms heavy to pick up, dont forget the thinning hair and headaches. but it gets better.

but after that i straighten up, and think of jesus holding up
his skin up on the cross for all the weeks of restriction and throwing up
every thought of wasting away is captured in this flowing blood
i start thinking philippians 4:8 when youre showing up.

[ana:] You know Im not gonna quit right?

Yeah I know and so they say,
survivors relapse everyday,
maybe i'll take you with me to old age
but I'm dead to you, you mean nothing.
And one day I'll be present with Jesus who died and bled from you
Colossians 1:15 that's the God that I trust in
The Father crushed Him
In doing so he has crushed sin

Sunday, November 14, 2010

hurts so good.

why am i blogging when i should be doing homework? ;) ah, some things only god knows.

"If you're unopen to love, you're unopen to LIFE. Travel a same illusive road to nowhere. All in the distance is a mirage of beauty, but is hollow at the core if its not built purely on a foundation of compassionate soil."
Mmm. Thought of the moment.

I'm also loving this black nailpolish,and oversized,obnoxious rings. Straight hair,Fishnet and small dresses. High high heels, or small if they are vintage.

I want to start a European magazine collection. And work at the bookstore. Go around everywhere faking my british accent, and taking more polaroid pictures.

Fill my room with photos of france, I'll live there someday.


Friday, November 12, 2010



( just a written daydream.)

He is tall, with perfect skin.his hair is dark, his eyes are piercing. His hands are large, most of the time cold,but soft.His heart is honest, his soul is pure. his lips are of passion, his body - of fire.

I'm the only one that glistens in his pupil

I'm the only song that captivates his thought

I'm the only wonder, he has yet to decipher

I'm the only rose he picks without a thorn

he is french, he shows me this place.he takes me around, and places flowers of the town in my hair.

I know he understands the storm inside me, by the way his eyes scream words at me,

while he silences when I explain...

the warmth of the room when I come out,dressed in my red dress,and i ask him to fix the back.the way he pauses in ocean length,as his silly fingers fumble,tremble.

He teaches me words and laughs at my terrible pronunciation, struggling accent. I smile back at him,and tap his nose with my finger, teasing,pulling his ear, and loudly gasping at his harmless mockery he laughs and pulls me close, his sweet chuckle, his big grin...

It's all childish chaotic clown fun, until my eyes hypnotize him. Luring him into my sincere siren song. He's mesmerized, and held captive in the tiny precious trinket of my love,and overall existence.

Hung mouth slowly hes reeled in..a trance I share. I feel quickly likewise,as the poison of amour sets my skin, the moment we touch...electricity that zaps through us as fast as electromagnetic waves. Ricochets up my arms;Veins of a love tree,Evergreen anorexic branches tightly entwining and raveling up my chakra. A burn that blisters but quickly cools and shivers.

I bite my lip,and my eyes trickle down the glass of his eyes,

the slopes of his nose,

to the satin of his lips.

His hands slowly cuff my face,and he pulls me into his aura-feeding off of him, breathing into him. My oxygen. my feeding tube. Heavy breath and fog on window glass. hes warm and static, hes sweat and cool water. hes ache and ecstasy. dirt on hands. A dying fly. A child born. A needle prodding my skin. The light reflecting off its disinfected silver point. He stares at me deep until our lips meet each others,and he kisses me deeper.

My heroin, If I was sick. So enticing... I would crawl on my hands and knees for him.

dig my nails into a wall,

scrape my back against the wood,

his hand tightly around my throat, he whispers how fucking hard he loves.

tears and blood.

the only river he would decide to cross,no matter how dangerous the current.contradiction, indecisive splashing motion.or troubled the tide,that continuously builds and lessens- without warning.without a helpful mare, without a strong rope to hold his way back, just in case he regrets. without caution,he would proceed without procrastination.

the apple of his choice,the only.if "only" was a word this society and this age could fathom. could believe.could understand,or take seriously.

if there was, an "only.." I.. would surely be his only.

im the love, he cuddles sweetly in his arms

snuggling his face against mine,resting on my shoulder,calm

im the chosen strand of hair he tangles, and curls around as we lay ,

hand in hand, soul in soul

the only lips he kisses..

I feel him inside me even when he is miles and feet away.

his babydoll. his rosegirl.

he says he loves how delicate i am,

and how he makes me whimper and scream

yet burst with tears in my eyes from laughter

he says he knows, he could crush my life in his hands,but its he who chooses not of that power.

he is handsome, he is youthful.his legs are long,his fingers are slender-his shoulders are broad,but humble.

his gentle lamb heart,and strong lion skin.

the way he loves me through christ,

and loves christ through my eyes.

I could kiss him allover, his articulation, his endless intellect

his brain is pretty, he likes to read, and ponder.

Gather information, store every detail of the universe through the files of his core. his eyes are the pridefully decorated windows, the door to which his avid yet gentleman hands lead the guests- (the thought) up-stairs to process. he smooths out his tuxedo,and lifts up his swanky hat,smiling as these strands of Madame philosophy and Monsieur knowledge make their way, settle themselves at home into his head.

his spirit is prettier, the way he takes my hand and we run down hills and into rivers,under night skies,we dress the railroads in drenched clothes,and i tease by laying out in the middle of the tracks.he runs to me and quickly picks me up in his arms,carrying me off,we roll down the field in laughter...covered in wild soil, dirty grass. Mud in my hair, and small tears in my summer dress as he runs his hands over my face and takes me, right then and there. The stars and tall weed, our only witness. Hes as beautiful as the moon. My moon man.

i love his vest, i love his old rugged jacket. At night,after we make love in winter, I sometimes wake up and stand to collect it, from whatever place it sloppily drapes over. We both detest the broken heater.

he is beautiful,thats why when he looks me in my eyes, for once, i do not sheepishly look away.for once, i do not bow my head in fear or shame

he sits at his desk in our small flat,hes at work when his glasses are on. see how his eyes are so serious, that his lips wrinkle sternly with unyielding concentration.

i adore walking up to him,whistling and twirling,obnoxiously clucking my tongue and dragging my shoes until he turns to me,with a smirk.

carefully taking a seat on his lap,he analyzes my every move, like its a dance. everything here,is slow motion.

my legs fall along side of him,he leans back,and i let his hands slowly slide over my body, up my back then down again, resting firmly at my waist. mon beau. vampire, I call . he begins to bite my neck as my head falls back, i make sounds

if he died tomorrow, i would not sink from what he took away,

but fly for what he momentarily blessed me .

he is of no flaw,that is why, when he speaks of frustration at unfortunate occasion,

or in riddles of sorrow, and self worry -doubt compulsion,

i sail my ship as close to this cove and plant down inside, a promise i cannot make, of his life- or forever mine, but through the lace of this world or the next, i build fires and collect fruit for food, make shelter on his forsaken island, gifting him with eternal innocence and love from me to always come

here within his heart,i reside but true love doesn't demand the rent.mmm.

I nurture his trust, and protect his joy. In my hands, it softly sleeps on the texture of my careful gloves. I would eat for him. I crawl on my hands and knees to him.

our days are photography, black and white filters,

detrimental sharpness, composition, clarity and obsessive concept.

two artists are explosive.

the way he wipes away scars from the claws of past hunting hawk lovers. He washes away any scent or recognition of the first letter of their names. his compassion and love for me eases any nightmare of how they hauntingly circled around my memory of my broken past.

the only one who promised to never hurt me,and never did.

those hands... the way they slide over every detail of my skin, every bruise and bone,he makes me feel beautiful.

he told me he loved the land of my body, every arch is a meadow, every curve is a lake.

the way i could fall asleep or faint when he explores me,with every fingertip .

my equilibrium jolts and spills in every direction like the grape juice i accidentally spilled once on our carpet.

at the same time of drowning in this exhilarating peace and tranquility,

i am falling through a twilight of a junkies rush,abstract and raw, as he finds his way ontop.

my own hair in my eyes, breathing him in again.

my heart pounds through my chest,ticks like the rabbit, and spirals into madness,as the hatter.

I just want to run somewhere.. or work frantic and fast, burning off this high he is filling my veins. my eyes roll back,as i fall back deeper and deeper into different galaxies and dimensions of euphoria as i OD on his love..

I see fuzzy neon,visual inversion,velvet glow,swirls of glitter dust and warmth.

these reflections,these patterns.

Im just swimming and spinning;swaying and floating, seeping and drowning;twirling and soaking.. in a beautiful swirl and warping psychedelia,whirlpool of neon andromeda.

i see flying fish and swimming birds.

i love the way he stands in front of our open pale drapes, most mornings

the cold sunrise shatters its way unto my body, as im entwisted in these soiled sheets

light is burdening, as i rub my eyes,and see his silhouette there,barely existent, for blinding and contrasted out by the brightness

he stands shirtless,staring beyond the buildings and streets

he inhales another drag of his cigarette. we all have our addictions? a habit he possesses long before our meeting. I'll break his though. or at least help him. he'll soon quit for many reasons, but initially one, I fantasize because and for me.

i love the way he develops photographs of random flower pots or Polaroids of our last nights dinner boxes

of me lounging in bed in only my messy hair,socks and underwear.the way we've built our collection of written words inside soft and hardcover spines,upon the bookshelf

the way our ways are covered in art

the way i sing to become his housewife

the way he fixes my bangs,so every brunette strand aligns,and falls out of my eyes

I say thank you in english,

he raises eyebrows and lowers his chin,

this means he wants me to recite the word correctly in french

I forgot,its a part of me learning. his oh so strict, yet adorable teaching..

i laugh,and bat my eyes in slow movement, i feel my own iris melt,

he even turns my blinking into red visions and body vibration

everything with him, is new, intense, different.

he places his thumb under my eye and smears down the dark liner,licking his lips, pouring out his heart..i can already see the thought stir in his mind, for they reflect of my own. this pleasure... reality... of him..of this... bliss.

i crawl closer,and whisper...


la de da.

A storm of raging emotions inside. The wind blows, the rain pounds down, the lightning strikes and thunder slams. I'm still standing. Surprised that I even am, at times.

I want to protect. And love. This feeling is shooting through me,not necessarily at random,(because I've always wanted to to love, nothing new.) but sudden. (especially the overwhelming need for protection.)

I sip my coffee casually and read. On the outside,no one could suspect my weather. I listen to the haunting song and my face turns out my window, staring at the house ahead. life beyond this prison.I'm always a dark girl, but not depressed. Not that i am entirely depressed now, But my nails are darker than usual. and my eyes are always lined deep 'nocturnal'.

am I a bad friend? Am i a friend at all? What kind of a friend or person am I?
No friend would let another suffer. be taken, like youve been taken. to be influenced, to be even more heavily exposed. to not stray away.

"If the waves suck you in,and you drown- If you should sink down beneath, i'll swim down."

And I would. To save her. To save anyone,right now.

I am not living for myself.

i want to fight for others in this disease, like i cannot fight for myself.

My pupil holds stories, striking and haunting. Fast paced details, flickering images, most in color,some black and white. Memory and fascination . That deviant little erotic thing -cognition.

Is that why i still always were p.s. I love you? The scent of a widow.
is that why I still see myself ontop of him in the front seat,parked in a cemetery.
is that why i still hear him play his beautiful music?

Thursday, November 11, 2010

but what can you do?

Remove your beautiful eyes from my mind. Remove them. I'll close my eyes,and all I see are yours.

sometimes pain settles deep in us, we cannot cleanse the wound allover.
Perhaps its meant to be here for a reason,for a moment. for a cause.

So i'll accept this ache. Thats all there is to it.

"what could ya do?"

what else..can you really do?

Monday, November 8, 2010

I pray.

fucking crow at your shoulder. begging it to leave.

Ana is probably the most misunderstood right now. She's a face, highly uneducated to the public. People assume,and accuse everyone feelings,symptoms and triggers.

Swift, cunning. The strongest are broken, The purest are rotten.
The logical are irrational.

Look at me... I love Christ. To hurt the human body, the holy spirit, is to hurt Jesus. Go figure.

The wicked, sly thing about ana is..even if you do not dance with her, fully act with her.. even if you push her away... she waits. She is patient,and she returns.

Like a poison,she sneaks in. You are unaware. You are innocent.

She spoils and ravishes. A thief.

A liar.

The devil will promise you paradise,with a warm cup of pain. Sacrifice.
He whispers for you to sip . The warmth of this drink,will melt away your cold,and heat your numbness. It will comfort, it will fix.

If you drink this cup, he will forever grant you with a feeling of perfection, happiness unlike anything else. So you listen to him.. you believe.. Might as well,because nothing else has taken your nightmares away. nothing else has healed your wounds... he sounds honest.

but in the end, he leaves you with that cup.. that cup..and much more. The road you have chose, the path that lead you here.. and all the consequence and agony that follows.

so..there is really no way out.

I drag my feet along....
Wonder how low this will last.

Praying she leaves. Hes got me by the throat, tonight. Whispering beautiful,erotic things...

Saturday, November 6, 2010

My heart swells like water at weight, can't stop myself before it's too late.

"You could have any guy you want."

They all say the same thing, as they look in my eyes,and run their fingers through the tips of my hair. That familiar, uncomfortable sigh. The breaking Point. The bitter goodbye.

I know whats coming next, I know whats coming so well, that I called it moments long before. The sarcastic rolling of my eyes, the abrupt pulling away from his hold.

He laughs sympathetically , the enthusiasm of his tone,is pitying me. He still insists I am so cute, down to the end. Down to the hateful glare of my eyes, down to the resentment in the air. Down to the separation of our paths.

Sweat on our skin, in a winter surrounded car. A part of me knows they don't fully mean to walk away, but.. they have to. All of them. It just...doesn't work out. for so many insane,individual reasons.

"Its not you, Its me."

Its ironic,the situations I swim into...

I'm not afraid, really. SO fearless, that I dive in quicker when they tell me to get out. Or even when I see a wave turn ahead, I still continue to float deeper.

This is why, I hesitate. Because, I don't
hesitate. If that makes sense.

Because I believe. I am tenacious. determined. An artist.

Even if things don't seem right, I'll fight to alter, to paint them until they are.

Sadly, I don't realize... that is highly impossible.

I'm sweet. I'm smart. I'm funny. I'm beautiful.

Their list goes on and on... princess.. adorable...dream girl.

Delicate, baby-like, rose girl.

But all of them? End their sentences the same.

Dangerous. Tempting.

Am I just a sin? Am i just soon your repression? Deprive me. Your inner confusion, your inner indecision uses and abuses me.

Some say they aren't good enough. They have froze in awe at the thought of my fascination. But are these mere, distractions? manipulations.. remedies to pull out even faster?
To shift the spotlight of THEIR decision. I am just the dancer, on his stage. In his theater. He is always..always in lead. Always in charge of our steps and choreography. I just sit back,in silence...respecting whatever way he tosses and throws me,pushes and pulls me. As long as he loves me, I crawl..

So he can look again, into my tattered eyes,and run his fingers through my knotty hair.

I'm split in half. Light,and dark. Gemini at best. I know i'm beautiful, but I'm ugly,see... because if it was really as beautiful as he says.. why is he walking away?

I know i am special, because god shows me and loves me.
But..why..doesnt he?.. thus, I am not as special as they say.

is it because god is such a jealous god? He rapidly pushes out anyone who steps into my life,intimately. Is it because god tests me? God fights me on my decision. God looks down at me, and brushes my cheek, agreeing I am dangerous in the sense I fight him on my own life, as well.

Because I believe. I am tenacious. determined. An artist.

I feel I know best.

he knows if he were to suddenly gift me with overwhelming love through the flesh, I would abuse it. I would abuse it in the sense of adoring it too much ,it would take over me like a drug and I would forget the lord . Is this what the lord THINKS ? because surely right now.. my brain.. my spirit says that I would never do such a thing . but then that part of me..that sickness.. silently agrees. shamefully nods my head,yes to his clever assumption. He knows me..more than anyone . God. he knows my thoughts,my actions before I even mold them.

Maybe he is right. I not ready. I'm not ready yet. Not..quite yet.

Perhaps he feels I am not fully in love with him. Does he consider my faith shaky? Will he want me to grow in him first and foremost, before he me my way. For the better. for the good. "When you love someone.. TRULY love someone.. you want whats best for them." even if they dont realize its best for them at the moment?

In order to fully love someone else, you must love yourself. In order to love yourself, you must love the lord.

In order to offer someone something, the jar of your soul- completely full, you must know yourself. in order to know your self, and what you have to offer another, you must know the lord.

so this ,is my underconstruction. So this, is my current lesson.

So,this is true then. I'm beautiful,and im blessed to meet beautiful souls. We tangle quickly, I'm a fireheart. Passionate and racy,and so is he. We go aflame..and burn out. quicker than my eyes blink. Then im lost alone, with all on my mind...

I guess I just wasnt sweet,enough.

Tell me. Tell me.