One Tall Coffee, and Leave Room for Cream...

Second Entry

2009-12-05T00:14:00.000-08:00

Wanting it to not have started, just as much I wanted it to end. So morbid to always have to think like that.

I want it to be different and to what extreme I can not even begin to explain; such a large complex.

I don't want to know you, yet I could not wait and can't wait to have you.

To hunger for you always drain every inch of me, that all I want to do is stay so ever still.

While I severely rock to the sensation that shortly overcomes me, I try and create a high that once did exist.

I never want to love. This being the one thing I never was expecting to see; was me in you.

A Bath

2009-11-15T21:31:00.000-08:00

She knew her heart would break the moment she let him into her head. She wonders if this is the reason she feels no pain; this was a fortune that had already predicted her way.

She cries no tears and almost feeds off a sense of calmness embraced with her knitted chaotic blanket. Almost bothersome that she falls asleep, with an escape of okay.

The beautiful troubled soul is loved and hated for opening something that she feels will never be closed.

All too much that day it glanced at her; what she would give to have the ability to see.
After it all she no longer wants to plea; being too much to exhale.

She will pray for the ever longing stare she wants to forever keep.

Rolling

2009-09-20T01:37:00.000-07:00

There is nothing as soothing than the outer warmth that is supplied by him. Making me only aching for more.

Only to that is this seductively savvy.
I dont want to stand this talking that is driving me to retreat into a shell built all over my very own.

All I beg for is a pin drop of peace to sort through random thoughts. Why is this too much to take in and to some so easy to misunderstand.

I would give the most to know how to speak the words with the right spellings. Exhausting it all.
Always waiting so you would be satisfied just until the wheels spin.

The Rockies

2009-09-05T23:54:00.000-07:00

Hearing those words are almost harder to handle than a shattered heart. Believing that these words are true could be worse.

I sit on the corner of 16th listening to the complaints on people's faces. On the other side I view the two that couldn't be bothered. Forever will I remember.

All of this makes me grimly smile at how much no one knows I see.

There goes that guy on a bike who seems to enjoy his paid time, not sure if he earns to dive into the seed.

Only wishing I had thoughts that drove me to jot down harmonies to fill my ear to the fullest.

There is one person that sticks to my brain like cement, the only thing I desire is to ignore it and chip away at the nuisance of this long standing statue.

Only wanting to be as satisfied as the souls that are at the end of Curtis Corner. Blowing slowly is this wind, begging to give me some muscle to offer me some relief. I am fine.

An Unspoken

2009-07-04T00:12:00.000-07:00

With a feeling of an accomplishment from a project she usually dreads, she gained the thing she felt she lost.

She never speaks of the word addiction, how many forms it presents itself. This fear feeds her motivation and success.

For the first time in awhile she is seeing the light she has been driven to discover and conquer.

A prayer or an invisible blessing she has screamed to achieve.

A blessing of a pair which truly opened her eyes to an undisclosed beauty.

A beauty of simplicity and laughable grins from this random that appeared again from nowhere.

An angel of her current needs; this one being too humble to even know. For this, there is many unspoken bows and silent thank yous.

Brick

2009-05-18T20:59:00.000-07:00

I have an inner demon that speaks to me without permission.

It feeds on my unstableness; my existence.

I can beat it down and attack on a moments notice or when my head feels heavy.

Too heavy are the old bricks, too heavy to carry as it leaks into a crumbling cave.

This thing will argue me whispering in a voice that I don't want to hear. I refuse to listen.

Listening to myself and what I think is an actuality, and what I possess is a silent beast.

VCB

2009-05-16T23:58:00.000-07:00

"ONLY UNFULFILLED LOVE CAN BE ROMANTIC" VCB

Vegetarian therapy

2009-05-12T00:53:00.000-07:00

Grasping my ankle is the vine of thorns containing sharp knowledge.

Slowly pricking my fingers while it extracts drops of desperate curiosity.

All of this too clever for my own good, always offering my outreached hands to take on the defiant.

Soaking up the guilt they do not seem to see; it drowns me as I fret to struggle to the top.

Forever climbing through this never ending and powerful forest, not to far to being able to dream.

One last Drag

2009-03-08T00:14:00.001-08:00

I'm down to my last drag, wishing that it would last just that one last bit I crave.

All one ever desires is to be wanted and needed; once achieved it's not quite enough.

This uncertainty pulls and yanks at me as I fight everything I close my eyes to every night.

So I laugh and throw my head back in a false smile that chuckles back in the reflection of the things I wish I didn't see.

Things that I want myself to bury deep away from me.

I battle the one I love, wishing it wasn't ever there at all, it would have never been this bad.

Driving so fast that my head spins to the speed of my wheels, a complete destruction of how I would like my charisma to follow.

I want to know how it good it feels when someone looks at me that way.

Oceans

2009-02-08T21:12:00.000-08:00

A pathway of visual beauty turns the chains of her mind.

Such a small block has opened her shell to a pathway of a journey.

A journey she has yet to intake.

Looking around every corner not wanting to be afraid to live life.

She will inhale the adventure and beat down the demons that chase her.

Don't be ashamed to be in love with love.

She will applaud her resistance of it all.

A charter of her own creation; she can triumph.

To not be withered away any longer.

She will indulge the sweetness of her own vision.

2009-01-18T23:20:00.000-08:00

I define myself by the different elements of this daily drain I call the "usual".

A place I cherish, a place where I have grown too grotesque for my own skin.

It kidnaps my breath, offering a ransom to possibly let me experience it; what an utter tease.

What an awkward position to me at this very moment. Offering this warmth to keep me at ease.

I look at it. This can't possibly be mine- what a strange thing to speak.

I just saw it and described it; this pattern I own.

So smooth as it glides from end to end, and on.

I want everything to be like this. It holds and contains me while all along I just want it to be done.

2009-01-05T20:32:00.000-08:00

From the heart; love is presumed to be spoken from, sadly a lost location.

What a sin to be placed upon a person's hidden soul of trust.

She dreams in black, a tinted vision of one's morbid definition of existing.

She tries to swallow the dryness that has consumed the inside of her tired eyes, keeping her awake.

Wanting to breath as they slowly shut, this being the only motion that portrays no harm.

All she wants is to drive a stake deep through the thickness of these dreary sensations.

To sweep them away, until another day.

Pots and Pans

2009-01-04T12:31:00.000-08:00

I sit in the middle of this floor- a place I've never embraced before.

Years of disappointment from every person, the feeling of solitude surrounds me.

Quite not sure if I'm okay, who can tell anyway.

Force me up, by the collar if you will, even if I don't have a choice.

I want to run and scream insanity, until my throat burns something fierce.

Quite not sure what stops me, wishing that someone was there.

A person there to stare.

A Friend...if you call it that.

2008-12-19T20:56:00.000-08:00

So uncertain she is, conditioning her pride with the shards of her own words.

So insecure she is, begging for compliance amongst her peers and others.

Trying to be mysterious and strong, but soaking through is blood of weakness.

Out of element, no surprises she brings when admitting her constant jealously.

All she does is fuse to organisms she wants to gain, I pity her self doubt in only one way; understatements.

What does she really want? Praise for the wonder she thinks she displays.

Her revolving sorrow can be resolved by only one thing, her own scene.

M

2008-12-09T02:17:00.000-08:00

This whole tiring show is seductively tragic.

A story tale with an ending, yet an empty conclusion.

What a bitter love, one that confuses every thought I have ever had.

It brings me to tears to imagine that this is a constant that I will always try and survive.

I want to explode, to implode all the excitement and doubt that exists inside of me.

To start again with the ninth struggle that I enclose, someday hoping for a satisfying result.

2008-12-03T14:26:00.000-08:00

Need is the devil that I actively encourage.

Entertaining all my actions, or lack there of.

We all crave that instant depth, but do everything in our power to swim away.

Existing only long enough to shadow against the walls before you close your eyes.

2008-11-28T13:19:00.000-08:00

Such an annoyance, he's the master of her alternative universe.

I slowly died with his words, leaving me as innocent and naive as a child.

This fantasy is driven by lust; an inconsistent reality.

So unavailable, yet there for the last call convenience.

We all relate to each other's stories of stale longings and drawn out conversations.

Make me love the feeling of playing for me.

2008-11-26T22:19:00.002-08:00

While I inhale my own poison and feel it structure my existence, I contain myself in my personal prison.

A place where loneliness is a common occurrence.

An area where time slowly slips through the leaking cracks.

A space where tears are my drinking water.

A time where there are no regrets.

A life of addictions that crave to be fed.

2008-11-26T22:19:00.000-08:00

It swells every time we think too long, creeping up inside until it starts to strangle.

Wrapping it's fingers around my lungs and crushing them with a touch

Too much to carry; it's weighing and also is bearing.

It taps my shoulder as it sneaks around my body not quite long enough to care.

This word so oblivious, too stagnant to stand.

2008-11-21T22:57:00.000-08:00

What we see and what we think are two different illusions

One big dream where each and every person creates their own hell

A hell that already exists, alive and breathing

If only one could see and touch another's reality would these fires be put out

But, would we be experiencing their fantasy?

It streams through my body to accept the differences and the awkwardness of each being.