Diamonds Made of Glass: March 2012

March 2012

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.

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

Misadventure

Posted on

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Category

angry,

blindness,

crying,

cutting,

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 #7

Posted on

Friday, March 30, 2012

Category

friday favorite things,

movie,

school

Wordless Wednesday #15

Posted on

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Category

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.

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

Featherbed

Posted on

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Category

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.

30 Days of Truth: Day 7

Posted on

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Category

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.

The Rest of the Story

Category

life,

poetry,

Sunday Scribblings

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.

Night Terror(s)

Posted on

Monday, March 12, 2012

Category

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.

Monday Madness #12

Category

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.

1999

Posted on

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Category

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.

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

Cannibalistic Habits

Posted on

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Category

sad,

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

Cylinder

Posted on

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Category

I thought I heard her come up the stairs while I was in the bathroom; I thought I'd heard her stifle a cry into my mother's shoulder, full to the rim of the cello music she's been listening to all evening.

I've been having nightmares all week now. And all week I've been happy. Supposedly. Happier. Whatever. I have nightmares of me and my mother or my sister fighting violently, verbal verging on physical and sometimes it is just plain I-need-to-murder-you-this-minute scrambling and scream fests.

I had this dream in which me and my sister tried to kill each other. Not really kill, I guess, just violate and wound in a somewhat physical manner. Before that it was blurry, translucent, people were changing identities. We were at our old apartment where the train tracks would run adjacent to the building. At one point I was running out of the building, trying to call my mother while my sister was running after me with a knife...

I would certainly appreciate it if when, finally, I'm beginning to be on good terms with my family (excluding one person) my brain would not pop up these frightening fantasies of chaos and death and blood and screaming and just... everything that makes me want to rip my own guts out and force-feed them to myself.

I constantly feel the need to apologize. All the time, every day. I feel like I'm doing everything wrong, that I don't fit this new family-mold that I'm trying to squeeze myself into where I have not one but two neat-freak (step)parents who can at times make me feel like a worthless piece of shit for not rinsing the plates well enough before putting them in the dishwasher.

And then, there is the abuse. By my two-and-a-half-year-old brother. Pinching me and kicking me and hitting me and punching me and biting me. Over over over again again again. He says he's sorry (after bigger or smaller amounts of persuasion) and comes over to cuddle and after fifteen minutes or less does it again and grins mischievously. I know he's a toddler and doesn't mean it. But when you add to it the fact he tells me to GO AWAY! all the time, I feel like I'm traveling through the "Best Of" version of the past five years where this is all that people (adult people, not toddlers, unfortunately) have been doing to me. Abusing, saying sorry, making me forgive them by being sweet, then doing it again and showing me they like it and/or are not really sorry.

Might I add, I'm doing my best to live. I, after all, am the one who chooses to suffer. Yes, people hurt me and I'm not to blame at all for that, but I have the choice whether or not let those things drag me down into big black holes in the ground. I'm looking at new philosophies to live by, I'm meditating, I'm doing relaxation exercises that make me feel like a loopy but do relax me, I'm looking up new music, I made myself get serious about my medication and vitamins (I tend to forget. A lot...), I'm trying my best to get me a few summer jobs...

And you know what...

I miss school.

And that is always a sign of improvement.

So brain, give me better dreams and I'll give you more power-enhancing substances and read more psychology articles. Deal?