Entries from June 2003 ↓

How many days do i Have to SAY
Get the fUCK aWAY
Ill mAke You fUckIng Pay
YoU annoying useless piece of shit
Your not WorTh AnytHing Especially this shit
I”m gonna hang myself to get away FroM You
Another Day IlL come BAck And get You
So BefFOre i go AwAY i”d just lIke TO Say

IM NOTHING AND NEVER WILL BE UNTIL THIS DAY

Eyes are the windows to the soul,
My eyes are like burning coal.
The burn with ire and hate,
and something that no one can apperciate.
Bloody tears are to only be cried by the Virgin.
it doesn’t matter who it could’ve been.
We all cry bloody tears,
because of our fears.

stop wasting pain
i like the pain
i like the agony
come to death as one
try to escape as them
the pain feels good
blood flowing
laying there
soaking
drenched
continue the beatings
continue the tears
rip away that smile
gentle pain
gentle suffering
gentle death
stop wasting it all

Damn, this is all phucked up
How the hell can I make this up
Why do I have all this time to fake
I just have to turn on the light and wake
Wait untill I feel like I am human
I have no phucking clue what Im doin
I can hold on, a little longer
Don’t take this world for granted anylonger
I needed someone last night
But I’m the one that held me tight
But since I am just a liar
I will set this world on fire
Show them true reality
Questioned by their own sanity

Kaleo

The holder of her dreams
The reason for her screams

The answer of her death
The reason for her breath

The betrayer of her life
The reason for her strife

The pain that made her hide
The reason they all died

The stealer of her humanity
The reason for her insanity

The player of her game
The reason for her name

I don’t think that stealer is a real word, but it works.

Kaleo

“Hey Amber, want to go with me to pick up Kat’s wedding dress?” “Alright”. My name is Amber Griffing, Im 17 yrs old, I have one brother and live with my parents in our nice big home. I’m not very liked by anyone, no one in school pays attention to me at all really, but you would think that my life is happy, and it is, except for this day, this day, when I lost the second most precious thing to me, my brother Ryan, the first precious thing to me is this guy I like named Dan, but thats another story.
Me and Ryan go to the wedding store and buy the preordered wedding dress for Kat, my brothers soon to be wife. I carry the dress outside and into the parking lot. Ryan had to park his car on the other side of the road because of the fact that theres no more spaces to park in the parking lot. “Hey let me get the car, you know I need the practice.” ” No no Amber, you just stay here and hold the dress.” “Oh alright, but im driving home. My brither laughed and walked across teh street.
I sit down on a bench outside the building watching Ryan get into the car and start it up. He starts to pull out when all of a sudden I see a 8 wheeler truck speeding down the road, the driver was obviously drunk. “Ryan not yet NO!” i scream, but no luck, Ryan gets hit and flipped over by the speeding truck. A hit and run basically. I drop the dress and run over to Ryan and the mutalated car, I hit open the window to see his face, cut up and covered in blood and glass all over him. I drag his body out into the road, now with a crowd of pedestrians watching and whispering around us. When I get my unconsciece sibling out of t he car I look down in horror at his chest, a huge peice of glass got gammed right through him, and instantly killed. I sit there crying and crying hugging thedead body, getting covered in his fresh blood until the police arrive and have to rip me from him. My family comes and even Dan’s family comes because Dan and Ryan were best friendsI run to my father and jump into his arms still with rivers of tears down my face and blood all over my shirt arm and cheek. He hugs me and so does everyone else, even Dan eventhough he can’t stand me. The police take the body and the car away and ask me questions and we go home.
That night as I lay in bed thinking and still crying….thinking about what I have left besides Dan, and thats basicaly not good…my family is really great to me…but my departed brother was the only one who understood me. I wish to die too, but only because I blame myself, If i made him let me get the car then he would still be alive, and ready to marry Kat, I can imagine what shes going through right now,Im gonig through it as well. Me adn Kat don’t talk at all, but we understand what eachother id going through…I will live on with the memory of Ryan with me always. Whatever happens to me I’m ok with. As long as I don’t forget my special dear older brother Ryan.

Amber Griffing-June 6, 2006

Hey all. I’m just readingt all of the stuff that’s been posted lately. Seems like most people aren’t so sure of themselves anymore. But i don’t think any of you should sweat it, you’ll find yourselves in the end. I’ve gone through the whole, am i goth or a poser, bla, bla, bla. But i know who i am and i’m proud of it. I like being goth, i enjoy that people are either open enough to speak to me or give me wierd looks. I find those people to be pretty funny my self.

The way i’m thinking about it is, it’s summer everyone can just take some time, hide in a dark room, and think their own shit out. Sounds good to me at least. Most everyone gets confused in ‘finding themselves’, but no one should. I’ve found a group of friend this year, i ventured out and became social. I’ve found this was a bad idea. I no longer like these people and they’ve all become a bunch of drugies. They just anoy me and amaze me with their constant stupidity. This may sound mean, but believe me it you know these kids you’d see what i mean. But since it’s summer i can avoid them and find a new place. I’ve decided to work and hang out at my friend Zoie’s house and go to concerts. It’s been working so far. Everyone who’s confused just needs to take some time to just figure shit out, it may seem hopeless, but just think about it and you’ll be ok. I don’t know if this will make anyone think, hell i don’t even know if anyone will read it, but i’m just putting my two cents in. So have fun with your summers, don’t waste them moping and being bitter at those who annoy you.

She cant be found
When her heart is broken
She cant be seen
Any more
For she has lost her last chance
And it has been taken

The last time this happened
She disappeared for a while
No one cared
Then he came into the picture
And she Was safe
What happened
She is confused
He left her
It’s her fault
But he cared so much
It had to have been
But wait what is that
Is it him
It is! It is!

She wandered to the door
Angry again
Now what did she do
The gods only know
She looked into his eyes
He loved her then why
He said good bye and left
But why?

She cried that night
HE needed time again
What does he do with all of this time?
She decided she was done
She was through with it all
She grabbed her knife
And ran
Right straight down the hall
Her hiding spot would be where
She would be found
And only he knows where she can be found
He never understood her
But she was waiting there
3
4
5
In the bath tub she lay
He opened the door
He yelled at the sight
She had been there for so long
She had died that night.

Eternal Embrace

A cold heart locked inside of me,
Chilled by winter breeze,
Frozen in the art of love,
There for all to see,

I feel your breath upon my lips,
As moonlight fades away,
A lonely tear falls from your face,
I wish that I could stay,
I know our time is almost up,
Our parting draws ever near,
A silent sound surrounding us,
And you i hold so dear,
Do not weep for me my love,
This choice it is not mine,
Ill leave this place and so will you,
For love is for all time,
Lying in my arms you cry,
Set your sorrow free,
Join me in death my love,
This way we will not be,
Separated for all time,
In a forest of our dreams,
Our love will live on through our death,
Join me, let it be.

Frozen there eternally,
To lovers interlaced,
A statue in the frozen plains,
Forever lasting embrace.

Crimson Tide

A river of red flows from within,
A stain upon the work of sin,
A tortured soul lies in this place,
A figure, a man without a face,
The knife it lies upon the ground,
The crimson tide flows all around,
Blood-washed rivers fill the ground,
His heart it does not make a sound,
Life is sucked out from the veins,
As this blood flows it leaves no stains,
For this blood is the work of sin,
A poison that comes from within,
A silent witness of a crime,
A soul departed for all time,
Taken from this place we know,
To a world where many go,
A place in shadows with no light,
A place where fire burns through the night,
A place where screams are all around,
A place where purity is not found,
An easy death,
A simple way,
To end a life of misery,
But whats in store after all this,
No-one know what does exist
The bloodstained ground thats left behind,
The memory of an saddened mind,
The feeling of hopeless despair,
As guilty stays,
Lying there.
Upon the thoughts of this dark mind,
A tarnished sound comes through, unkind

Love In Death

I just close my eyes,
Shielding my mind from the world,
Pass away into subconcious thought,
Drifting away to my grave,
Bury me deep inside of this place,
For love after death is unkind,
Torn away feelings build barriers here,
Stopping us, making us blind,
One day we’ll lie here together again,
Motionless side by side,
The love that was once felt inside of our hearts,
Will carry on in essence of mind,
Until that day,
you must go on,
Forever a thorn in your mind,
One day we’ll be together again,
United, our souls for all time.

Last Chance

One last chance to prove myself, one last time before i die,
One more time i must do this, must do this to ease my mind,
Setting free my unseen self from a prison that is me,
Unleash the broken spirit now and all shall bow and see,
Lie awake, lie asleep it doesn’t matter to me,
Die today, die next week no-one cares for me,
My lifes a lie, myself a hoax, a human conspiricy,
A brand new dawn, a new life set, upon the road for me,
A brand new start, a new fate here for me to have, to feed,
I must now fight, fight for life, for my own state of mind,
Live or die, thats my choice i haven’t got much time,
The clock goes tick, its running down, this chance has passed me by,
Return to black, my head tilts low, my mind broken and torn.

Nightmare

Walking throught the darkness,
A world of insanity,
The blackened shadow of a dream,
The vivid nightmares go unseen,
The tortured mind, imprisoned in,
Subconcious thought of constant sin,
A thought let lose upon the night,
A thought that will not leave this sight,
Crashing down through clouds of fear,
Swirling, coming ever near,
To a place inside the head,
A place of fear, of dark, of dread,
Coming here by minds desire,
Being burned upon the fire,
Crucified upon the flames,
As blood it boils inside of veins,
Dripping down upon the face,
A ghostly creature you create,
A figure dressed in black draws near,
Searching, death he knows no fear,
As fighting, screaming he takes you from,
The place where only you have gone,
As daybreak comes the pain subsides,
The world that punished has not died,
It will return as does the night,
A fear, an absence of the light.

This is my unfinished pride and joy. Seeing as how it is still not finished someday I will post the rest. If I find my work on any other site besides this one without giving me credit I will be one very upset kitty. My work is copyrighted and shall remain so. I hope I have not seemed rude But I was kinda ify about posting my work on the internet do to stealing. So enough of my rant and here is my story…

She was just barely 18. Her beauty should have peaked in her youthful years; it would have with others who had such a striking body. Her rosy cheeks, soft with love. Her hair, like rays of the brightest sunshine. Her skin, the palest white, like virgin snow that had fallen on a window pane in deep winter. her eyes should have been the most breathtaking blue, like a sea of shimmering sapphires, two perfect stars in the blackest of nights. Her room filled with pictures and letters from family and friends. Party pictures and old concert tickets stuck to the corners of her vanity mirror, her walls a ballerina pink with millions of posters of her favorite bands. A faint smell of baby powder and hairspray from the morning before still lingering in the air. Her life should have been a perfect world of warm love and happiness.

She sat in front of her old vanity mirror. The glass missing its pictures and colors. The metal vanity stole she sat on was hard and uncomfortable. She was silent as she stared back at the ghostly figure in the mirror before her. No longer was the room a beautiful palace of happiness, the room had quickly taken a feeling that could of been described as a erie dungeon cell. The walls grey and cracked, posters hung lifelessy as if ready to fall any second now. The grand and maginificant bed was no longer inviting and pleasurable. She turned as the rain began to pound on the window pane. The black clouds darkened her room, her day, and her life.

The cold icy wood floor was slick under her bare feet, her body shaking with cold and fear every few minutes. She grabbed the rigid corner of the vanity and reached for the drawer, the metal handle as cold as the fingers of death. The top of the table was not cluttered by letters and phone numbers cascading in puddles around the telephone and picture frames. A plain clear glass vase, holding a single limp red rose that was dry and drained of life and a picture frame turned around showing only its black back was all that occupied the top of the table.

The mirror was broken and smeared, the fact that she could see her reflection made it another sinister object in the already emotionless room, the crack ran wildly up the middle of the mirror. The spilt twisting her face, making already unhappy features come to life. Her tiny, Pasty hand slowly worked its way toward the mirror. With her bare hand she began to scrub, first weakly, Her small hand hardly touching the glass. Then anger took over her body. She began to shake and she tried to dig her non-existing nails into the cracks. She suddenly stopped, for she could see the reflection of herself again, which was just another one of the many additions to the gloomy room that made it harder to bare.

She stared hard, her eyes completely in a trance staring at the vision in front of her, seeing that it brought back the fear and lost hope of the vanity mirror and the room. The silence was broken as she stared with strained eyes. She screamed, her voice deafening. Her eyes now danced over the image standing before her. The image she saw was the most menacing creature she had ever seen.

Its clothes were a chalky white, its body a colorless being, its presence was the only thing in the room not darkened, or at least so it seemed. See scanned her thin colorless t-shirt, her eyes stuck on how thin her body was. Her tiny hands touched the cold material of the shirt, feeling the cold stickiness of a tiny spot of blood that was almost black. Her endowments were now only a larger distraction between her shoulders. She moved her finger down her arm slowly, and clamped down tightly on her petite wrist, her stubby nails pricking and stabbing her thin flesh allowing a tiny bit of blood to trickle down. She glanced and the tiny pool forming on the floor.

As she lowered her head a tiny tear of blood fell from her eyes and joined the pool of blood on the floor. These tears had become a common thing with her since yesterday. She cried, unknown and unloved by everyone she once knew, her stomach twisting in pain as the finger nail did in her flesh. Now completely clear of pain, she ran her fingers over the picture frame that sat on the vanity table, the photo sending a new river down her face.

It is now summer and three weeks had passed since she had any contact with him. The soft hum of his voice still hung clear in her mind. His figure was stuck in her in her memory. He too was thinking of her, even though he was so far away from her, in Europe. He was her friend, her life, her love. His words were the only comfort in her cold stormy world. He had left her side when she had needed him the most, on that fateful night, when she needed his words and warm embrace.

She cried because she couldn’t bear to let him see her like this. It was her twisted mind that would leave her alone in this time of need, all because of that night and what it was doing to her body. A few moments went by with no tears, and then her evil thoughts took over her body once more. She lifted her head and glanced at her new body. She then broke into more tears, the bloody tears of her broken heart falling softly on the back of the picture frame. She began to stroke it slowly with her icy fingers, with each stroke more tears of pain followed.

The rain continued to pound harder as she turned to look out the window. Her once beautiful eyes, no longer a sea of life, were dry and dead. She then noticed her cheeks, drained of color and merriment, now pale and well defined. Her whole face was this way, pale and full of darkness and death. Her hair was now the palest blonde, no more the color of sunshine. Her lips, dead and dry, she shivered in the icy room. Her ears were lost in the snake like strands of hair. She placed the dead rose back in the vase, her hands now hovering over her bleeding wrist.

She wasn’t frightened by the blood; in fact it gave her a strange hungering feeling. She quickly looked away from her arm and she reached for one of the drawers on her vanity. The handle causing her already icy skin to tingle. She slowly pulled a letter out that she had already written and laid it on the vanity top. Her attention turned again to her wrist, to the slow steady blood flow, hitting the ground and collecting in a pool at her feet.

Shaking, she grasped her wrist in a tight hold. Blood began to seep from the cut. She slowly lifted her wrist to her mouth. Her eyes darted and stared into the mirror as she bit down softly and began to drink from her arm. The childish fear struck her again, Along with the thought of her actions. She stopped suddenly and began to look on both sides of herself, paused and looked straight into the mirror.

Her eyes had became glossy again and her lips were plump and bright red. She glanced up at the cracks on the ceiling, her head floating in ecstasy. At that moment the window suddenly burst open. Rain pelted the floor. The dusty lace curtains danced in the whipping wind. She stood up, sending the picture frame to the floor. She raced to the window, clamped her boney fingers to the window panes, her hair a flying mess, blinding her sight. She pushed them shut with a loud bang as the glass shook. The waltzing curtains died and returned to their resting place over the window. She walked towards her vanity as she glanced at the window and continued on her way.

There was no way she could turn away from what she must do. She picked up the letter, silently read over it and gently folded it up. Her wind blown hair looked enchanting with her death like seductiveness. As she was reaching for the envelope her body began to shake. She dried her tears and stumbled to her feet. Grabbing her bathrobe and slippers with half minded thoughts she quickly slid them on and walked towards her bedroom door……

topic - death

“I’m leaving” she said with a shivering voice.
She had that look in her eyes, like in the first day, lost somewhere in another world, in another time. The look that he was hoping to change.
And now he knew that she was never coming back, and nothing can make her stay. He wanted to tell her that he loves her. But it was useless….
She closed the door after her and he felt the last sour scent of roses that was always surrounding her disappear.
He was crouched in the corner of the room. He was afraid to turn off the lights knowing that her flesh won’t be close to him.
A cold shiver pierced his body and he knew that in this moment her blood was staining her black clothes and scrawling her pale skin. The only thing that sorry for was that he couldn’t see her in this moment. He couldn’t feel the scent of her blood and touch her cold body for the last time.
The flesh that crouched all this time in the corner of the room was crawling towards the switcher leaving behind a trail of blood. Now he wasn’t afraid to turn off the lights.
In the darkness of the night he could feel again the sour scent of roses.
And the last star on the sky disappeared…….

“I’m leaving,” she said with a shivering voice.
She could see him crouched in the corner of the room with his deep eyes in which she used to lose herself so often. She wanted him to stop her, not to let her go. She wanted to tell him that she loves him. But it was useless now…
She saw for the last time the crimson sunset lost trough the yellow and dark red curtains. Then she closed the door.
She wandered for hours on the dark streets of the city then she found herself in front of the cathedral. She laid her body on the cold stairs but she was afraid to close her eyes knowing that his flesh won’t be near her.
A cold shiver pierced her body and she knew that his blood was staining the floor and scrawling his strong hands. The only thing that she regretted was that she couldn’t see him. She couldn’t taste his hot blood and kiss his frozen lips for the last time.
The flesh laying in front of the cathedral started to bleed and blood was oozing on the cold stairs. Now she wasn’t afraid to close her eyes.
In the darkness of the night she could see again the crimson sunset lost trough the yellow and dark red curtains.
And the last star on the sky disappeared…….

I lifted my head to look at the comedian on the TV screen. I had seen her before. Her nervous, twitchy face. Her constantly cracking voice. SHe wasn’t funny before, and she wasn’t this time either.

Frowning, I shifted and looked more directly at the screen. Why was she there? How did she even make it that far? Three minutes on a Comedy Central stand up show. Maybe some guys thought she was pretty or something. Or maybe she wasn’t nervous before, and she was actually funny then. But why was she nervous now? Lack of self-confidence, huh? Probably.

The feeling of him stroking my back brought me into the present again, and I laid my head back on his chest. He pulled me even closer, then continued to trail his fingers across my back and arms. I closed my eyes and attempted to ignore my guilty feelings. It’s just cuddling, who cares?

I’m a very physically oriented person. I’ve always hugged and cuddled my friends. We’ve always sat on each other’s laps and snuggled without thinking twice about it. We needed love and assurance. We needed to feel safe. WE needed those horrible feelings to go away for once.

…There, a reasonable argument. Nothing wrong with cuddling!

…But still. There was something different about this. He didn’t do this with other friends. Rumour had it that he wished there was still something between us. That he was hurt by the fact that my newest boy was one of his best friends, and the guitarist in his band.

I shifted again. Uncomfortably this time. I wondered what Derek would do if he walked in right then and saw us on the couch like this.

“Anything wrong?”

He looked down at me. He always knew. He knew me too well, and I always told him everything anyway. Thoughts rushed through my head, but I stopped them before they erupted out of my mouth.

“Nothing”

He looked like he didn’t believe me, so I hugged him tighter for a second.

“Really.”

I managed a grin up at him, and I hoped it didn’t show that it was fake.

He sighed.
“Alright…”

I always felt like I had to force Derek to hug me… like he’d simply sit there with his hands folded together if I didn’t take them and wrap them around me. I had to kiss him. I had to do everything. He probably wouldn’t even ever call me if I didn’t tell him to.

And I needed more than that. There’s so much wrong with me. I’ve always turned to pills, ropes, and knives when I thought that no one cared anymore. And it was easy for me to think that. I would lay on my bed, and convince myself that everyone hated me. I never meant to… It just happened.
But a person pouncing on me and hugging me to death always made me feel loved. At least for a few minutes.

I always felt as if no one completely understood me. I hung out with the “punks”. They thought that punk music was the cure for everything. Nothing cured me. And they didn’t know about or failed to comprehend what I needed, and my comfort in my own blood.

He was talking about something, so I listened up.

“…And Dropkick’s playing around here in the fall. Awesome. But Lower Class Brats! Wow. Sucks that you’re not gonna be here during July. Yeah…”
He trailed off.

“Yeah, that IS pretty awesome. I dunno, though. I want to go to that industrial show on Saturday.”

He laughed in his special way, in his rolling eyes and saying “only you” way.

“Bah, I’m going whether you want me to or not, Lawerence”

He grinned, “okay, have fun!”

They called it my “inner goth”. My obsession with goth rock, my love for industrial music, and how my personal god always was and always would be Trent Reznor. They ignored my plaid miniskirts, medieval dresses, my knee-high black boots, fishned, and my obsession with collars and bondage. I usually wore baggy jeans and band tees around them anyway.

We spend weekends sitting around, making fun of Avril, Good Charlotte, and the likes. And then we’d go to some underground punk show. And talk about how THIS band was actually punk rock, and fuck, it was good. Or say that the band sucked. And we’d beat the members up in the mosh and/or circle pits when they got offstage.

And then I’d grab Derek or whoever I wanted or dated at the time and make out with him… ANd then get punched in the stomach by some one skanking around.

Those were good times. But I never thought I was “punk”. None of my friends did, either. I kind of wanted to find my place. And I wanted some one who wasn’t against my cutting and suicidal habits, but would successfully make me stop anyway.
Because I wanted to stop. I just couldn’t.

“Claire, I’ve gotta go get Rich. The stupid fuck got arrested again!” he laughed.

“Alright, I should go anyway. Tell Rich to spraypaint my name on the Savings Bank next time, alright?”

He smirked and nodded. We stooed up and hugged for about ten minutes. He left, and I watched the screen door swing shut. Being arrested for stpuid things like Rich did… That was supposed to make you “punk rock”.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. The world’s so pointless and silly. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door and jumped over the first set of stairs. The sound of the door slamming to a close came as I ran past the bottom step. In my car, I turned up the Clit 45, and I drove away. I knew that a call from Derek would be waiting when I got home, and there would be a lecture or five from my parents. And there would be crying alone in my room late at night. Things would be the same as usual. And as always, I would silently scream for change.

But, yet again, no one would notice.

“Get out!” Shara shouted to her mom in uncontrollable anger. She slammed the door as hard as her slim muscles in her arms would allow her. Her mother had pushed her too far this time. She wasn’t going to listen to her criticism anymore.
“Shara Faye!” “You’re out of line! Listen to me before you end up in Hell!”
Janie Malone shrieked at her stubborn daughter with desperation. She started to open the door but found it to be immediately slammed in her face again. This narrowly missed her delicate hand that tried to force the obstacle between her and Shara open.
Shara yelled at her mother through the thick wooden door of her bedroom. “I’ve heard enough about what you think of me and my beliefs. Say another word and I will personally come out of here and knock you upside your closed minded head.” Silence followed the offending threat. Though Shara was positive her mother did not take her seriously.
Shara had been practicing the religion since she was 13. That was two years ago and Janie was still on her case about it. Shara had found nothing wrong with Wicca ever since she found out what it was. She had formally been raised as a Catholic in St. Elizabeth’s Catholic Church until she met her special friend.

Gwen was living in chaos when Shara met her in downtown Detroit on Harbor Street. Shara had run away from her pressured expectations she had to live through every day. She was looking for a pay phone to call home and surrender to her dad and mom. Then the messed up girl who appeared to be the same age as the runaway and had beauty yet no apparent knowledge as to what she was doing stumbled and fell onto Shara. She was high off pot and had even had an unpleasant smell of beer on her breath indicating to the then sweet, innocent Shara that she was superior to this pot head. But being a little Christian girl she felt the obligation to help the “poor mishap” as she had thought of her.
“Oh, my gosh. Here you need some help?” Shara got up and helped the weakling up off her feet with her tiny hands connecting with hers. She put her hands on the girl’s shoulders to balance her.
“Who the hell are you?” Gwen asked with genuine confusion.
With hesitation Shara told her who she was. The misuse of the word ‘hell’ had shocked her a little.
“Shara. You need to get some medical help like, now. You’re losing it.”
The innocence drifted out to the street girl from Shara’s heart and Gwen felt it. She looked Shara in the eyes and said as steadily as she could, “Come with me.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You need help immediately, quit talking and come on.” Shara protested wondering if she would truly end up not getting the girl help from her stubbornness caused from being disoriented and all.
“Look, I may be a tad bit out of it right now, but I know whach ya thinkin’.

It began from there. Of course Gwen regained physical strength before telling about herself to Shara. But their friendship was sealed even before the police arrived to bring Shara back home to be grounded for two months.
Shara realized that she was no longer sweet and innocent. She had gotten herself into so many messes in the past two years that ended her up either in jail or juvey. Trespassing and stealing became an ordinary life to Shara which was only complete with Gwen there. Of course her boyfriend, Chris, joined in a few times. Though Shara was still more active in breaking laws than he was.
Reckless behavior and rowdy parties every weekend filled Shara and her friend’s schedule. Drugs, beer, and sex were practically a necessity to their fun. Shara could never bring herself to lose her virginity so quickly, but several previous boyfriends were without hesitation.
Shara often thought about that night when Gwen and she met. But it brought back memories of innocence without fail every time. It angered her without prevail thus she would focus instead on the control she had in her own life now.
Shara thought of the parties and drugs. The rituals and power. The sex and the rush of adrenaline after a fight with a gangster. She loved it all. She had long before realized it would never be easy to let it all go. So she continued with Gwen to experience it all every week and sometimes everyday. She began cybering and meeting with her guys and gave them sexual favors for money for the drugs and ritual supplies. Shara really didn’t mind the actual action of sex with internet friends, just the stereotypic history of it that was disgusting.

“Shara. Please-let me in.”
“Look Janie. I know if I let you in you will only lecture me. I’ve had my share of that. Just go.”
“But honey, I wasn’t…” Shara cut her off abruptly.
“GO!” Shara’s refusal was followed by the sound of Janie Malone’s footsteps fading away to her bedroom.

TO BE CONTINUED

It is clouding over out here. It only started when he walked out into the air. The air turns stale when he revealed himself to the world from the protection of the building. Everybody stays away from him, the saddening one, nobody likes to be sad, but him, he hates everything with a passion. While he is walking home in his sinister clothing, the crow caws at him with its sad but true death tone. When he reached his house, the lawn hasn’t been done in ages, the house has been painted black, and the windows have been tented to a deep crimson that almost looks black. He enters his house, with that long skeleton key. Goes past the foyer, which has been turned into a raver room. Up the creaky stairs, twisting with there threatening bends, and they call to him to push somebody down them. He makes it to the benighted hallway and walks past the rooms that smell of sex and blood in them. He makes it to the black door; of course he opens the door and walks in like he usually does. Blood incases the room; it’s all on the walls. You can see a hand dragging down the wall where the end might have been. Yes, it is his doing; of course it is all his blood really…Aha you think him a murderer? For yes he does hate all life, but mostly his own. He takes off his clothes slowly, leaving nothing but pale, white skin. The scars are all over, he lost count after 38. He retires to the bathroom after he gets his blood red towel from the closet of his. He walks to his sauna that is all black, but then again it matches the bathroom, black marble, everything black, except of course the faucets…they are gold. He turns them on and blood pours out of them into the sauna where he is sitting, it does not faze him at all. He fumbles around the back part of the tub. And pulls out a bottle of champagne. Pops the cork, and takes a swig of it. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. Slams the bottle on the side of the sauna, and slits his wrists with deep gashes. By the sigh in his breath I believe he’s not going to stop the bleeding. His eyes fade to black, pupils glaze over; the world is a figment to his mind now. I swear that was a smile on his face…but that man is incapable of smiling. There is a beeping sound in the distance getting louder…and louder. You sit up in bed sweating with scars all over your body and the pain in your wrist wont go away, the covers you were sleeping on are covered in blood. And when you walk outside the air stales in your breath and the crow seems to be stalking you with its long sad cry. You are no longer accepted at school and this world is scared of you because you are fucking different. Well, maybe you will go home and relax in your sauna and give this world of yours to another.*the end*

Here it is…not very much to say to you…
Only because of these three words…of I hate you,
Yes laugh some more…make a smile but next time ill make that smile a little wider
And maybe some more along your throat…
I know how much your throat is dieing to smile…
Dieing to bleed…
Dieing to kill that fucking weed…
But all in all it’s just a dream…
So go on about your fucking day and maybe next time,
Ill remember the knife *the end*

Nuclear war
I do not feel like typing anymore, I do not feel like talking anymore. I do not feel anything at all actually. I cannot get up to turn the light out. My eyes do not shut. My mouth is ajar; everything is frozen in this one little moment. My mind racing faster than a mouse being chased by a cat, the explosion blows me out of my chair and against the wall. I slide down slowly as time begins to speed up again…laying crumpled on the floor I see outside my window a huge mushroom cloud in the distance…whirring of helicopter sounds growing louder. The war has begun… I wake up sitting here in front of my computer, there is war in my mind and it has just begun…*the end

Helpless,
i feel ashamed,
Crying,
i feel pain,
Praying,
life please change,

please show me, the rules of this game,
im on the edge looking over,
is there anyway i can start again?

im falling in my dreams,
drowning in my screams,
watching my life passing,
its the same everyday,

from the darkened cloud,
to the angel’s tears,
all i seem to do is fear,
please help me,

can you hear me?
or am i not really here?
i tried to blind myself,
but im still here,

Waiting,
more pain will come,
Bleading,
the scars will always run,
Screaming,
to be heard,
Dreaming,
of something i could never have.

Mommy where did you go? Will you be home in time to read me a story to but me to sleep for the night? Mommy why is daddy and sister crying?
Whats going on? Daddy picks me up and hugs me a lot. Whats in that big wooden box with the flowers around it? I want to see.. but daddy won’t let me. Everyone is crying, I dont understand..but it makes me want to cry too. I cry, and daddy and sister hug me tighter, I dont understand! why won’t anybody explain to me whats going on?! I’m 4 years old I can handle it. I ask daddy why you arent here mommy, and he starts crying more and tells me I’ll understand later, but I want to know now.
When sister takes me home and you stay behind at the big white building I try to go inside your room, but the door is locked, I knock, but no reply. There are flowers all over the house, such pretty ones, with blues and pinks and yellows and whites and reds, and all other colors. I wonder if someone is getting married, or if its just a party, there are a lot of people here, but I dont think its a wedding or a party because they all look sad and some are crying.
10 years later
I hate you dad..and sister. Why didn’t you tell me out fucking mother died that day in a car accident!? I could have handled it, I would hve understood! but no! you had to keep it a secret from me! but the mail reason why my mind is so tormented by this is that you didn’t give me a chance to say good-bye.

Mommy where did you go? Will you be home in time to read me a story to but me to sleep for the night? Mommy why is daddy and sister crying?
Whats going on? Daddy picks me up and hugs me a lot. Whats in that big wooden box with the flowers around it? I want to see.. but daddy won’t let me. Everyone is crying, I dont understand..but it makes me want to cry too. I cry, and daddy and sister hug me tighter, I dont understand! why won’t anybody explain to me whats going on?! I’m 4 years old I can handle it. I ask daddy why you arent here mommy, and he starts crying more and tells me I’ll understand later, but I want to know now.
When sister takes me home and you stay behind at the big white building I try to go inside your room, but the door is locked, I knock, but no reply. There are flowers all over the house, such pretty ones, with blues and pinks and yellows and whites and reds, and all other colors. I wonder if someone is getting married, or if its just a party, there are a lot of people here, but I dont think its a wedding or a party because they all look sad and some are crying.
10 years later
I hate you dad..and sister. Why didn’t you tell me out fucking mother died that day in a car accident!? I could have handled it, I would hve understood! but no! you had to keep it a secret from me! but the mail reason why my mind is so tormented by this is that you didn’t give me a chance to say good-bye.

It began as just an average day at work. I put the newly arrived CDs into the computer, ordered other CDs, swept the aisles. Normal stuff you do before the people start coming in.

So I did what I always do at the Second Spin store down in Pacific Beach. And then the slow hours came, the ones that always happen around nightfall out here. About five pm, business starts to thin. By seven it’s gone.

So I was sitting around, it was seven thirty, and the store was dead. No costumers, period. Just me inside this empty store, cleaning up early, spinning the various CDs, as always. And then she ran in.

The doors pounded back, and this golden haired angel ran in, pulling the doors shut, slamming them behind her, and then yelling hysterically for me to lock them.

“Please!” she screamed. “Please! You have to lock the doors! Please! Help me!”

And who was I to turn this yellow haired seraphim down? So I locked the doors, and then I saw them. Their dark eyes stared at me. Soulless eyes, almond shaped spots of emptiness on dark skin, framed by the black night outside.

I felt cold fear then, and wondered what I had gotten myself into by helping this girl. I gave the figures outside of my store one last look, there were maybe six of them in all, and then I turned back to the girl who had run in.

And I lost my breath just looking at her. She seemed to glow, almost, though it may have just been the store lights. Her pale yellow hair hung like softly spun gold, and her eyes were luminous and green, like liquid fire. They almost sparked with their fear and anger. She was pale, pure white, and a snatch of a poem I had read so long ago came back to me. It said

“Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her hair was soft-spun gold.
Her skin was white as leprosy,
The nightmare life-in-death was she,
Who thicks man’s blood with cold.”

I can’t recall who it was written by, I couldn’t then either, but I didn’t care at the time. Her eyes enthralled me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look away. But I did. I looked back to the window, and the dark people were gone. A man stood there in their place. His eyes were liquid and blue, and he was white, like she was. His hair was blacker than the night around him in the alley.

I heard his voice in my head, and he smiled, beautiful and cold and cruel.

‘Open the door, James…’ he said. ‘Let me in. You have nothing to fear from be, let me in. They’re coming back for her, and for me. Please.’

I didn’t understand how I could be hearing him inside my head, but I looked at the pale angel, and she urged me forwards, and I heard her speak to me, aloud.

“Please let him in,” she implored, her voice soft, but the fear for him was obvious. “Please.”
I walked over to the door, found the key and unlocked it, letting him in, then swiftly shutting and relocking the door.
I looked at them together, two pale angels, and I saw he had the same ethereal kind of glow to him, the same amazingly coloured eyes. His liquid blue eyes held mine for a second, and then he looked past me in fear.

I looked behind me, and saw the strange dark people again. They stared at me with their black almond eyes, and I felt the cold grip of fear again. Something about them was just wrong, though I could not place it.

I took the two of them to the back room and asked for one of them to explain. She broke down in tears, so he started to tell me, but he began to dry heave, so I took him into the employee bathroom.

When I came back, the girl was still again, no longer crying. She stood up, and came over to me, kissing me softly and putting her arms around me.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then she kissed down my neck softly.

A sharp pain went through me, and her grip tightened, and I felt her mouth clamp onto my neck, the nexus of the pain, and I felt hot blood rushing from me. I heard it rushing in my ears, and the steady thud of my heart.

Then I felt another pair of hands on me, and the same needle sharp pain on the other side of my neck.

I could hear them sucking from me, I could feel my blood leaving my veins as I went further and further into the gray.

And then finally, I saw black, and nothing more.

Lythia wiped the boy’s blood off of her lips and smiled at Cristophe.

“What, if I may ask, did he see that made him fear so badly?” she asked.

Cristophe only smiled. “Well that’s for me to know until you learn for yourself, isn’t it? And besides, you did a good enough job acting afraid yourself, my love.”

He kneeled down near James’ corpse, and took the keys out from his pocket, then led Lythia out from the back room, locking it behind him.

He opened the door to Second Spin, and locked it again before pulling it shut behind them.

The two pale, angelic looking vampires walked down the deserted alley, and out into the waiting night.

this is actually the ending to a story I’m working on, heh… I’ve currently got three vampire stories in the making, including the sequel to ‘She Was Mine…’, as well as this one, and another.

A tingle races accross my skin
Once again im free
Die i might
but not today
my time will come another day

I hate my life
Everyone knows
The days are long
And filled with sorrow
So many ways to end it all
Which one to chose
Fuck this all

I was controled so long
By the son of the dead
He wrecked my life
And screwed up my head

I hate my life
Everyone knows
The days are long
And filled with sorrow
So many ways to end it all
Which one to chose
Fuck this all

My life is a living hell
They put me on drugs
And that rang the bell
I DONT WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS!
I DONT WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS!

I hate my life
Everyone knows
The days are long
And filled with sorrow
So many ways to end it all
Which one to chose
Fuck this all

Part 1
Why are you like that?
You know that I care.
The only reason I told,
Was so I knew you’d stay there.
I was afraid something would happen.
I gave in to the scare.
But you didn’t have to change,
You knew I’d be there.
You knew I’d be hurt,
You thought it was fun.
Said I broke your trust,
And you know I won’t run.
You can’t see inside me,
Like you used to see.
The friend I knew has left me,
I don’t know where she could be.
We’d talk of all the fakers,
And preps that ran around,
Now you have become one,
And don’t know I’m around.
But I still stand there watching,
I feel so sad and lonely.
If only you could realize,
It’s because of what you told me.
Don’t you know I cry?
Can’t you tell?
Why do you think I’m afraid to talk to you?
I thought you were close to the edge,
Then I realized you already fell.
You fell into the crowds,
We said we’d never be.
Now it doesn’t matter,
My pain no one can see.
One day you will find me,
The girl that you once knew,
Suffering from the problems,
I tried taking from you.
You are so happy now,
So I guess I should be glad.
But it’s kind of hard to wake up one day,
Missing the best friend you ever had.
I’ll cry when I’m around you,
But only so you can’t see,
I’m still the girl you trusted,
The one you thought would leave.

Part 2
I was wrong,
To be so sad.
When I was crying,
I should have been mad.
There was no reason to be mad at me,
And as I sat there waiting,
This came to me.
You could care less,
Of me and life.
All that you wanted,
Was someone to fight.
Someone to be nice to,
That’d be with you till the end,
And right when they started trusting you,
You decided not to be their friend.
You’re not the person I thought you were,
So sad and all alone.
Instead you’re someone I don’t know,
That’s numb down to the bone.
Numb is the heart that I tried to help,
That heard my words but never felt.
The heart that I had thought I’d seen,
As I talked to you,
The heart that never could have been.
I should have never listened,
To the stories you started to tell.
I should’ve realized sooner,
They were lies you were trying to sell.
My friendship you will never know,
My heart you will not see.
And as I walk away so slow,
You’ll wish you’d really seen me.

Part 3
Maybe your there,
Though I cannot tell.
Maybe your heart is lonely,
It needs help to get well?
I remember all the fun we had,
The look I saw in you.
I think I see that girl again,
Trying to shine through.
I’m here! I’m here!
My mind tries to yell,
But I won’t let it yell to you,
Since I can’t really tell.
I know it won’t be the same again,
But can’t we just try?
Can’t we just try to be friends again?
The new you and the old I?

No one understands what its really like. What its really like to be a Vampire.

I’ve read books, lots of books and seen a multitude of movies. Its all the same - vampires are immortal, they kill, they hunt, they have long, long teeth and of course, they fly, sleep in coffins and the sun burns them.

It makes me laugh, how it makes me laugh so hard. People can be so clueless.

People cannot be made into vampires, they are born.

I was born a Vampire, though I did not realise this till this year. I was overcoming an illness at the time - I caught the flu on the second day of the school term ( im in year ten ), then for five weeks recovered and sunk into a deep depression which involved cutting myself ( though I did not drink my blood.)

Whilst I was recovering I went through many emotions. I felt tired in the daytime, but active at night. I started predicting things which came true and at the time scared me. I hated the sunlight, people became very lethargic in my presence.

I thought this might of been just my recovery process, or maybe the side effects of the anti depressents I was on. I even went as far as to think maybe it was my craft nature creeping back up on me. ( i was a practicing witch for eight years.)

Anyways… days later I was browsing through a few websites, looking at Vampires as my friends and I had developed an obsession for Queen Of The Damned ( Stuart Townsend is just so hot mmm). I came across a website ” www.vampire-church.com ” which is a website for people who are REAL vampires.

At first I thought “Ok..what wierdos, they think they are real vamps - talk about freaks !”. I started reading some of the posts on the message boards. Nothing really took my fancy till I got to the Psi Vamp section. My blood ran cold. There were people on this board who were describing the exact same symtoms as me. Some had been ‘awakened’ after a long illness and that really hit home.

I was so scared at first. Its cool to joke about being a vampire, to watch movies , read books and to write stories. But being a REAL vampire? It was like someone comming up to me and saying ” Oh yeah, by the way your a ghost or your a cartoon character.” I didn’t believe it.

I talked to a few of the vampires on the site, I talked things through with them, explained to them I was a christian - i couldn’t be a vamp. They explained that vampires are any religion, they aren’t evil, and yes, it sounded VERY much like I was a vampire.

I was so confused - but as I read more of the posts I realised these people were normal too. They didnt sleep in coffins, they didn’t fly - sure some drank blood , but some drank energy . ( I am more of an energy drinker though I have drunk blood before.) These people had normal jobs, went to normal schools. They were normal !

I am still a bit confused with my ‘ awakening ‘ , and its difficult. I am not a full on vampire yet, but that might happen later as I am told. I don’t mind the sun, it does irrate me but I can still go out in it. At the moment it is winter so I dont need my sunglasses - its very dark. I bite people, but its out of fun - my friends and I play around. I have to be careful though - a couple of days ago I bit my friend very hard - i didn’t no my own strength I guess and now they have a BIG red mark * sorry sam *

My friends don’t know yet - I go to a Christian school and If I told some of them they would freak out - they might not hang around me or they might want to ‘ exorcise my demons ‘ (hehehe.)

Its a lonely exsistance, I know how it feels and if anyone would like to talk to me about it, whether your a real vamp or not, please feel free to email me at slashtrash@vampire-church.zzn.com

Love Cait

dont put yourself down.
just remember that to yourself u can be perfect,
and untill you find someone that is perfect for you,
everyone else is shit,
but you are on top,
so fuck everyone else and all there sadistic bullshit
and remember that u are who you are because that is who u mad yourself,
so fuck anyone who doesnt appreciate it

This is about Darkness, but it’s semi-erotic.

She pulled the brush through her hair, tugging at knots and twigs. Her short skirt and thin blouse revealed her less then wild nature, bringing up the subject of why she was so dressed and yet some how ragged.

“You know it’s useless. He’s dating someone.” The voice in the back of her head was filled with venom.

“I don’t care. He loves me. I know it sounds naive but it’s true” She pulled the last few leaves from her hair.

“He could be making love to her as we speak.” The voice was persistant and still cruel. She tosed her mane of chestnut hair and ignore the voice.

“Perhaps.” She muttered as she glossed her lips, “I’m leaving now, so it’s moot isn’t it?”

~~~

He sat upon the high rock wall which seperated their lawns. She saw him first, and caught her breath at his apperance. The full moon lit him from the side, and his whispy hair blew in a summer wind. His angelic face was filled with a mellow sorrow and all she could think of was holding him. As she approached the wall he stood and smiled at her.

“Hi.” He held out his hand and helped her onto the wall. “How are you tonight?”

“I’m… Well. And you? How are you and… Yes, well, it’s not my buisness anyway.” She felt her face heat and was instantly thankfull for the cool darkness around her.

“It’s not?” He mimed a femminin voice. “Sorry, I saw that in Spider Man and wanted to use it ever since!”

She laughed, trying not to snort or fall off the wall. “You do a good M.J…”

“Bet you’re better.” He smiled again and his voice resonated with emotion. “Bet you’re wonderfull.”

“Oh, Peter, you’re such a tease!” She mimed a girly voice.

“Oh!” He laughed and she was reminded of an angel again “You’re much better then me!” He suddenly took her hand, “And what other impressions can you do?”

“Well… Actually I do a relativly good dominatrix…” She kept hold of his hand and smiled, “But you’d hate that.”

“Hmmm… You with a bull whip… I’d PAY to see that!” She instantly turned her face down and blushed. “Now, none of that… No being shy.” He carefully turned her chin up and looked her in the eye.

“I’m only this way arround you.” She sighed and reached out to touch his face before she could stop herself. He froze. Oh god, she thought, No, I didn’t just do that, no!

“Sara…” He inhaled deeply, “I can’t…” He gasped as she drew her fingers allong his face, from behind his jaw to his lips.

“Oops…” She barely breathed the words, “I think you’re about to anyway…”

His breath was audiable as he sat frozen in the night. Slowly his hands were able to move again and he wrapped his hand arround hers. She smiled and pulled close, eliminating the distance between them completly. This seemed to revive him, and he was able to lean down and kiss her finally. Oh god, she moaned slightly, I simpily have to know how he tastes.

After that, not much was said. Somehow they managed the short walk back to his house, and after a breif but furious search for comdoms, they made love. Fini.

~~~

She woke in his arms and instantly remembered all of the last night with out any regrets. And from the way he moaned her name when she moved, it was appearant he didn’t regret it either. It was shortly before dawn, and they had been making love every night for the last week. Somehow, the subject of his girl-friend had never come up.

Soon after she snuck back into her own house she hid the box of condoms and crawled into her own bed. A mutual friend of herself and his girl-friend would be having a party that day, and some real rest would be a good thing. So she slept soundly and contentedly.

~~~

He had been at the party with his girl-friend. The smiles they shared where enough to make it clear they were in love.

“Told you so!” The voice in the back of her head crowed, “I knew it! Why didn’t you LISTEN to me?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, “I’m TRYING to focus…” The razor in her hand was a decevingly dull color. “Okay, he was the last straw. I’ve got no reasons left.”

“Coward!” The voice tugged at her thoughts, “Taking the easy way out again!”

“You’d rather I stay here? In this… PIT?!?” She looked around the room, and it was indeed a wreck. “I live in a shity house, and I can’t make enough to move out! I have no tallent! I’m an artist whos ideas-!”

“COWARD! You could live anyway! You just want a quick fix! Forget it, I’m not letting you do it!” The razor was flung accross the room by her arm. “You’re here to ‘Love and Mourn’, remember?”

“That was just a shity poem I wrote!” She sobed out the words.

“It was written in blood. So now, it’s an oath. ” The voice rasped the words out at her.

She sank to her knees and let the tears flow. A smile spread accross her face as she fell onto her side. the last thing she could recall was the taste of tears and coppery blood.

~~~

I don’t know if it ended or who won. I can’t remember all I know is one thing. I’m here to love and mourn.

Was she to be rebuilt in this pouring rain
A wretched amaryllis with petals torn from each side
Was she to be remarried in this catastrophe

She with golden tears , fell
She with cerulean eyes , wept
She in the amber mist , fell
She , the maroon trees , sighed

Alas , the cracked glass bled only in she

Was she to be remodeled in this ruination
A damsel in distress with feathers torn from each side
Was she to be again construed in this storm

She with cyan eyes , blinked
She with the golden tears , wept
She in the mist of rouge , fell
She , the purging river , groaned

Alas , the trembling trees , bled only in she .

Created for use of the band Tears of Pain

My Gift

CHORUS
Burning embers in my hand
A passion that won’t always last.
My gift to you, my suicide
And every guilt free day after I die.
END CHORUS

I made you do this.
You begged for me to end my life,
Though not in so many words.
Outcast always into the shadows,
Forever watching the world around me turn.
My gift to you, my sacrifice.

CHORUS

Your love, like the fire raging
On the house next door
Could not last.
We were doomed to failure.
Beauty and her beast.

I’m sorry I had to hurt you.
Sorry I had to make you hate me.
But it was the only way.

I couldn’t leave with your love
Still on my mind.
I couldn’t leave with your hand
Still in mine.

Burning embers in my hand.
A passion forced to end.
My gift, a heart that beats solely for you.
My selfish gift, my suicide.
END SONG

I can’t keep holding back all of the hate that I’d love to shoot at evewryone around me. Last night if I wasn’t stoned as shit, I surely would have snapped at my step-mom. She starts screaming at me to everyone, talking about me in third person, she holds up her middle finger and sais girls are meant to wear nail polish not freaks like you. She continues screaming about me, bla bla “If he wants to be a “gothik” he can be it out of my fucking house!” bullshit you horebag skank, I’m not “gothik” or whatever other stereotypes you’d enjoy settling with throwing at me. My dad and step-mom agured all night threatening to leave each other, over me, admitting to each other and 5000db that if they had the money, they’d part company in 5 minutes flat, and that my dad can take his shitty kids with each him. Dad tells me its not my fault, but of course it fucking is.
The problem I have is why must the world comprise of people who will throw away everything, over black nails and some chains and spikes and shit, WHO FUCKIN CARES, but still more importantly WHY?!!!? I live with my step-dad and mom, and he sais if I look like a freak near him, his house, or anyone he knows, I’m on the street. He won’t let me use the TV, the shower for more than five minutes, the dryer, basicly anything thats his. Last time I stayed in the shower for 43 seconds over 5 minutes, he punched the door in while I was under the water, last time I came home with dreadlocks (the day I moved in 3 months ago) he told me to fuck off, then told my mom if my head isn’t shaved by tommorow I’m homeless and so is she. You’d think I wouldn’t care, but my moms mom who was only sixty was killed in a car crash weeks before, and I’m the last person on earth she can talk to, she said she’d die if paul left, so I had my head shaved, I had no choice. The other day paul was screaming at my mom over me, and getting really violent, I heard mom screaming in desperation, I panicked and walked out of my room, pulled out a 6″ hunting knife and held it tom pauls throat and said if he ever touched me, my yonger brother or my mom again, he would be a fucken corpse, he shouted at me in extreme rage, and ran for my I swung the blade inches from his throat, and told him to try me, because I kill with no remorse. I was kicked out, but my mom begged me not to leave even paul said I’m never stepping foot in ‘his’ house again. Any way, I could bitch for days and weeks about the past days and weeks but I just need to release some of this steam, My wrists sting, and I nearing the hour of cutthroat. No-one cares about me, except my mom and girl-friend, but they keep me in this hell. I live in the ‘Crime capital of the western world” as worded by the U.N.’s last survey. My friend couldn’t escort my girl friend home yesterday night because his phone was just stolen, and he had a drug dealer and the cops talking to him, I had to be at my Dads house, because it was legaly my weekend there, so I had to leave her alone, last time I did that she was attaked and sexually assaulted by a gang of fucking white niggas. If the train hadn’t have pulled up, she would be another number on they rape statistics papers which are always climbing and defeating the law of “what gos up must come down” bullshit. I’m meant to have this divine homeostasis with my girl friend and lately she just gets me in shit, by making me bend all the pathetic rules my step-parents place on me.

Have you ever looked at a baby, or even alittle kid? Have you wondered what they would be like when they grow up? I have.
As I sit here watching my baby nephew Brandon play with his toys, learn new things everyday, even every second of the day of his youth. He learns things to quickly. I wonder if he’ll learn to be happy. He laughs and smiles and all he cares about is..well..nothing. Children don’t have a care in the world. I evny kids. I wish I could go back to my youth, Im still young, but not as young as to not care about anything. The future is a scary thing. I wonder if he’ll be a smoker, an athlete, punk, goth, prep, jock, gay, he could be anything. I just hope he doesn’t turn out like me. I want him to be happy and popular and loved in the family. Theres a lot I dont want him to become too, but thats a long story.
As this perfect example of youth walks around on his new legs, looks at the world through confused big blue eyes. Theres no telling what the furture has in store for him, or any other child. I don’t think I’ll be around to watch him grow up because Im moving as soon as I can…but all I want for him, is to be happy and loved. Unlike me.

i fucking hate you i hate me ihate this girl i was so pissed one nite that i felt that i was in love with this girl so much you dont fucking no but she treated me like a peace of shit and i hate her for that i think she hates me to

i killed you and your emosion

and your life so fuck you