You Are At The Archives for March 2012

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Misadventure


Misadventure

I gave beauty a kick in the teeth
With my bootlaces loose and my heel
Sore from crunching all the rocks on the
Thawing pavement and now I’m feeding the Fury
With white grapes and Smarties
Before I create oceans of iron underneath
The cuff of my sleeve
Sunset sundown sun in full closure
I reap the dying thoughts from my
Temporal lobes with forks and spoons
Too eager with my promises
Too eager with my loyalty
Too eager with my trust
I suckled on the hope
Until instinct became duty,
A numbed down task I would perform
When limbs opened wide in front of me

I hung blankets over the window,
A rug with a city that I put upside down
I feel insects crawl beneath my skin
I am a safe house for those who run
From pesticide—
I never stopped feeling his hands on
My skin

Mourn the memory later
Hate the motherfucker later
Do it all, but later
The brain learns best at night
Till I die it will grow fatter
Inside the hollow above my pelvic bones
Beneath my tailbone, above my highest vertebrate
It will suck on the marrow and feed
While my hands panic in search of all things sharp,
Anything to penetrate the dry and crackly crust

So the Fury will stop screaming inside my lungs
Ecstatic and lustful for the anticlimax—
The comedown, the relapse, the revelry.


------------------------------------------------------------


Sharing at OpenLinkNight at dVerse Poets Pub and at Weekend Creation Bloghop at WordsinSync.




Friday, March 30, 2012

Friday Favorite Things #7



Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen in the Hunger Games. Just went to see it with a few friends. Yes, I'm a sinner, I went to see it and haven't read the books... But I had to! It was filmed right next to where my girlfriend lives! (And Jennifer Lawrence is preeeeettyyyyyy...)


My new super eco-friendly TakeAway cup for my tea-madness. I shall be carrying this everywhere with me once I go back to school (and carry my own tealeaves with me too probably, eh). It has pink! =3 It's made of porcelain and the pink parts are 100% silicone and you machine-wash it.



One word: P-O-S-I-T-I-V-I-T-Y. 


Smarties. THEY ARE VEGAN AND I NEVER KNEW =O !!!


friday favorite things | finding joy

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Featherbed



Featherbed

Drunken and wide-eyed,
In the cold cement alley,

Tremulous crowns
Upon tremulous heads,
Whispering,

We seek the treasure.

It must have been love,
That threw kings down the walls,
Pleasure stains on their palms,
Whimpering,

We seek the treasure.

Freckled cheeks crumple from the flesh
Disinclined to open,

Clouds of cotton,
And a dash of formaldehyde
Decomposing in coat pockets,

We seek the treasure.


-----------------------------------



Sunday, March 25, 2012

30 Days of Truth: Day 7


FINALLY BACK ON THIS CHALLENGE AGAIN! =)



Day 7: 
Someone who has made your life worth living for

There are many people in my life who make it worth living for — my sister, my closest friends, my little brother. But there is one who stands out the most as to making my life something I cherish and respect and want to continue. That person is my girlfriend. I originally met her by chance but now, and pretty much from the first days of speaking with her, she had brought new light to my life that cast away some of the darkness that had been swarming around me and showed me there were more paths to go along. That it would be hard, but going straight through the bad would prove to be more advantageous than dancing around it and traveling on detours.

We have both gotten through, even though some parts of our lives have been close to deadly. And I guess, knowing the other has been through something similar makes a special connection. I’m not trying to sound corny and talk about soulmates and higher powers putting people together with fancy, glittery wings and wands. I’m just saying I got very, very damn lucky in this life.

We’re similar and different in a rather harmonious and balanced way. We also look alike and have similar names and more than one person has said we ought to be twins. We were apart for nearly a year before meeting each other, and even though our connection had only been through mind and speech and sight and there had been that big geographic gap between us, it was as though we had lived in the same town all that time. As though we had seen each other every day. And in a way, this has been better, getting to know the other from head to toe, in and out before actually being able to lay my head against that other head and press my toes to those other toes that lived on the other side of the planet and liked to wiggle when happy. It’s like the moment your web browser finally opens that page that has been super slow in loading, except you have to multiply that feeling with million and add it’s square root to it and… you know, the works.

I’m very thankful to have my girlfriend in my life. I know that no matter how many mountains we have to climb (be it metaphorical or real) we’ll have the equipment we need and when we run out of them we can carry each other and switch when we get tired.


The Rest of the Story



The Rest of the Story

The glass bubble,
misused and blown the wrong way,
is about to burst from pressure.

Standardized,
it would be seamless,
notwithstanding the hole at the end where the air comes in.

After all it is just a door and a long corridor
through which all those thoughts and actions walk in,
their shoes making bumps on the gummy texture of

the infant globe,
that at times represents my soul.



Monday, March 12, 2012

Night Terror(s)



Night Terror(s)

I shall derive love out of your violence,
While pointed fingers curve and crackle,

In the incestuous darkness of early morning
I groan and pant through the thicket,

Illiterate to the pain starting at
The hollow of my neck.


Monday Madness #12


You don't know me,
You don't wear my chains.

I've been taking a break from the internet for a while. Excluding, of course, talking with my girlfriend. Otherwise, though, I took a break for a little over a week from blogging and Tumblr and such just to be with the family. In some ways it was a good thing, in others not. I've felt pretty endangered with my array of outlets. I'm not sure if you remember or have seen the post I made about my parents in February. My parents, one of them at least, took it very badly. And having them confide in me of all the things they think is wrong about me using such a public outlet made me feel as though it had been compromised and that I could, in fact, lose this. 

First off, I don't think any one of the 79 followers (which is indeed pretty little, considering other blogs) knows who my parents are, or know me in real life, or know them in real life. Second, this is my blog and I can say whatever the heck I want over here and I am the one who takes the blame very willingly if it were to cause me trouble. I am not stupid, I know the internet can be a very evil place. I know from personal experience. But still, referring to what I first said, even if I did mention my parents' first names I highly doubt any one of you would make a connection in their heads going "Oh yeah, I know this person!". 

So having gotten that out of the way, I would like to say I have done my fair share of thinking of the matter and no I will not apologize for things I am perfectly entitled to feel and say because of the things that have been done to me and because of the things I have been through. You do not go and deprive me of a voice. Only 50 percent of my parents know me well enough to know that my voice is definitely not a loud one. I do not yell or raise my voice. I am loudest here, in text, where nobody can talk over me or shut their ears from me or yell at me. Why I cannot look them in the face and say things and yell, well, they ought to know the reasons themselves.

This is what I do. This is how I am comfortable, where I am most confident and where I know I will be heard. Call it cowardly or immature or whatever else you want but I think it is just as adequate as me talking to you in person. Actually, I think it is better. Conversations are conversations, which in essence ought to be done person to person where one can talk over the other if they will. 

I have been hurt way too many times for me to be able to just open my mouth in front of you and let the words and the pain and the blame and the tears just come scrambling out of my mouth like a freaking marching band. If I do that, I open a door through which you can stick me with a that more-or-less verbal knife you have been using. 

It has soon been three weeks without therapy. First my Winter Holiday, then just a week with no appointments, then my therapist has their Winter Holiday and boom my next appointment is two weeks from now. I have not been able to sleep. I take 12 milligrams or more of melatonin per night, and considering my prescription says 3 milligrams I am running out of them very early. I keep waking up and having nightmares and waking up again or just not falling asleep at all. 

I have not cut in several weeks. I haven't been counting days. I guess that is a good thing. I have had less panic attacks than earlier but I am still having them. And I am constantly scared to death. My life is on the brink of a drastic change, and I do not know when that change will occur but I know it will and I know it is on its way I do not know if it has been received in the place that will start the change and for now I am so very scared because I do not want to be present when the change starts. Part of me is trying to make the changing end feel good, or make me feel good, or make me feel like nothing is changing and that time is just stopping and nothing will happen even though it will. I need to lie to people for doing things because they do not want me to do them in the first place. 

And I fucking hate lying. 




Sunday, March 11, 2012

1999



1999

I was six years old,
An overly energetic Duracel Bunny
With no front teeth,

I threw bread under the table
At kindergarten
Because I hated it,

I refused to take naps in the bunk beds
That you could pull out of closets
In the gymnastics room,

Instead I ran across the big big hall
That went between the little kids section
And the big kids section,

And sang my own versions of Disney songs,
Dragging my shoe-less feet on the scratchy
Plastic floor.



Saturday, March 10, 2012

Cannibalistic Habits



Cannibalistic Habits

Cannibalistic habits
We sleep through emergencies
Revelry in the morning
We didn’t die tonight
We didn’t die tonight,
I steal glances at strangers
I rob moments of privacy
I stare them in the eyes
I’ll make them uncomfortable
Because they sleep soundly
While during the night I scream
And I scream and I scream
And there is no end to it inside
The walls are too tall and my head,
It is curved and separate, it spins
Like the tilted cube on top of a shopping mall
Come buy come buy come buy and become happy
The silence is deaf and the darkness is blind
I see I see I have x-ray vision and I see too much
I curl up into a ball in the dark
I do not exist—
You do not see me so I am not here
You suckle to the shreds of hope stuck in your straw
And press your phone to your ear tight
She will pick up because she is alive
I’ll have you know I’m scared to death
You will receive the words, the sentence
They’ll finally cage the monstrosity
They’ll cure my disease and my desire
For the bottle with the black cork
And I do not sleep for the fear of it
The silence the death the darkness the truth
I cannot do what I want and I cannot I cannot I cannot
I look back and to the sides but my neck is stuck
They are crawling across the ceiling
They lie on top of the table
My heart is growing tired of jumping
The sadness is contagious
The sadness is toxic
I didn’t die tonight
I didn’t die tonight.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharing at OpenLinkNight at dVerse Poets Pub and at Weekend Creation Bloghop at WordsinSync.


Sunday, March 4, 2012

Cylinder



Cylinder

Roll me over
Derivative in arrears
Meet me

I shall drown in water
In hopes my mother has given me gills

A closet stuck in the skeleton
Nibbling on your earlobe at night
Meet me in the

And I am guilty,
Rising to the occasion
With false equipment

I thought you were a hero
But you are running

Naked and scared

Adding to the bag
Of corpses by the end of the road

Roll me over
Derivative has appeared
Meet me in the

Bed—
Room


Thursday, March 1, 2012

It's OK Thursday #2


It's OK
  • To bake Semlas (see picture above) and make a huge batch and eat most of them yourself aka 8 every day for the past four days because you felt like it.
  • To spend hours outside with your little brother digging a hole in the snow, calling it your secret hideout.
  • To have had two jobs before ever having an actual job interview. I had my first one yesterday, yikes.
  • To have a wall full of posters and pictures you've cut out from magazines even though you're not actually a rebellious teen anymore (not that I ever was one). It's cheaper than buying paintings and hey, it's my room!
  • To not shave your legs in the winter unless you have to wear shorts to the gym or a dance class... Who's going to see my legs otherwise anyway in this cold? 
  • To sleep in a queen-size bed but fill the other side with pillows and blankets to make up an illusion there is someone there, and then hug onto it for the night.

Its Ok Thursdays

Copyright © 2014 Lilu. Powered by Blogger.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...